PRINCETON.  N.  J.  % 


Library  of  Br.  A.  A.  Hod^e.  Presented. 


BX  7260    .H28  H38  1863 
Hawes,  Louisa  Fisher,  d. 
1867. 

Memoir  of  the  Rev.  Erskine 

J     w^wp.c;   -  


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/memoirofreverskiOOhawe 


MEMOIR 


OF  THB 


Rev.   ERSKINE  J.  HA  WES, 

JPastot  of  tje  CongrcBalional  ffiftuttfj,  yijimoutS,  Conn. 


HIS  MOTHER. 


ISTEW  YORK: 
ROBERT  CARTER  AND  BROTHERS, 

No.  680  BROADWAY. 

1863. 


UTew  York: 
20  North  ■ffilUam  Street. 


THE  FATHER  OF  THE  DECEASED, 

TO  WHOM,  UNDER  GOD,  WAS  MAINLY  OWING   WHATEVER  OP 
EXCELLENCE  HE  POSSESSED, 

as  a  frtatfijr  of  tfit  (Ko«ptI, 
TO  THE  PEOPLE  WHOM  HE  LOVED, 

AND 

AMONG  WHOM  HE  80  HAPPILY  AND  USEFULLY  EXERCISED 
HIS  BRIEF  MINISTRY, 

Tills  ITlemoIr 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED  BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

BIRTH  AND  INCIDENTS  OF  CHILDHOOD   9 

CHAPTER  n. 

ENTERS  THE  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1837 — INCI- 
DENTS OF  LIFE,  DEVELOPMENT  OF  TALENTS,  AND  ATTAINMENTS 
FOR  THE  NEXT  SEVEN  TE.\R8   25 

CHAPTER  III. 

PREVENTED  FROM  ENTERING  COLLEGE  BY  THE  STATE  OP  HIS  HEALTH 

 LIFE  ON  A  FARM — SIX  MONTHS  IN  WILLI8T0N  ACADEMY   47 

CHAPTER  IV. 

RELIGIOUS   TRAINING  PROFESSION   OF   RELIGION — COLLEGE   LIFE — 

YEAR  IN  TEACHING   67 

CHAPTER  V. 

THEOLOGICAL  STUDIES — CONFLICT  LICENSE — GRADUATES   AT  AND- 

OVER — ENTERS  ON  A  FOURTH  YEAR  AT  NEW  ELAVEN   83 

CHAPTER  VI. 

CALL  TO  GREENFIELD  PREAOireS  AT  FALMOUTH  WESTERN  TOUR.  .  95 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE 


CALL  AND  SETTLEMENT  AT  PLYMOUTH  LETTERS  HOME   DURING  A 

PERIOD  OF  RELIGIOUS  INTEREST  AMONG  HIS  PEOPLE   113 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

BRIEF    NOTICES   OF   HIS   MINISTRY   BY  OTHERS  CHARACTERISTICS  

HIS  PREACHING   137 

CHAPTER  IX. 

LAST  VISIT  HOME  LAST  MEETING  AMONG  HIS  PEOPLE   165 

CHAPTER  X. 

FATAL  ACCIDENT  CLOSING  SCENES   167 

CHAPTER  XI. 

BRIEF  NOTICE  OF  FIRST  MEETING  BY  HIS  BEREAVED  PEOPLE — LET- 
TERS OF  CONDOLENCE — EXTRACT  OF  REPORT  OF  CHURCH — 
SERMONS  •   IS*^ 


NOTICE. 


A  mother's  love,  perlia2)s  a  mother's  parti- 
ality, has  prepared,  and  now  gives  to  the  pub- 
lic, this  memoir  of  a  deceased  son. 

The  father  has  had  doubts  whether  there 
were  incidents  in  his  life  of  sufficient  interest 
to  justify  adding  another  to  the  numerous 
volumes  of  the  same  general  character,  already 
before  the  public.  He  felt  the  same  doubts 
in  regard  to  the  memoir  of  his  daughter,  Mrs. 
Mary  E.  Van  Lennep.  He  was  happily  disap- 
pointed then,  and  hopes  he  may  be  now.  It 
has  greatly  mitigated  the  bitterness  of  bereave- 
ment in  the  loss  of  the  daughter,  to  believe,  as 
he  is  constrained  to  believe,  that  she  did  her 
work  for  good  in  the  world,  by  her  early  death. 
Her  memoir  has  been  widely  read,  and  has 
been  of  great  use  to  many  whom  she  could 
never  have  reached  by  any  other  influence. 


8 


NOTICE. 


And  should  this  prove  true  in  any  good  de- 
gree in  regard  to  the  memoir  of  the  son,  it 
would  lighten  much  a  sorrow  which  the  lapse 
of  time  has  but  little  relieved,  and  cheer  a  path 
from  which  the  last  light  has  been  struck  out. 
It  was  natural  for  the  parents  to  desire,  that 
brother  and  sister,  so  closely  related  in  life 
and  who  were  called  away  from  their  spheres 
of  usefulness  in  the  morning  of  their  days,  and 
in  circumstances  so  affecting,  should  be  asso- 
ciated with  each  other  in  a  brief  memoir, 
which  should  preserve  and  endear  their  memo- 
ries for  a  time  among  their  friends,  and  add 
something  to  their  influence  for  good,  when, 
like  all  earthly  things,  their  names  will  be  for- 
gotten. 

So  let  it  be,  since  the  hearts  that  loved  them 
best,  are  consoled  in  the  sweet  hope  that  their 
names  are  found  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIETH  AND  INCIDENTS  OF  CHILDHOOD. 

.  Erskine  Joel  Hawes,  tlie  third  son  and  the 
sixth  and  last  child  of  the  Rev.  Joel  Hawes, 
D.  D.,  of  Hartford,  Connecticut,  and  of  Louisa, 
his  wife,  was  born  July  23d,  1828,  and  died 
July  8th,  1860. 

Of  the  six  children  just  alluded  to,  four  sleep 
with  him,  in  the  same  enclosure,  in  the  north 
burying  ground  in  Hartford,  among  the  people 
of  his  father's  charge. 

One,*  the  second,  sleeps  far  away  "  among 
the  Moslem  dead."  There,  on  the  banks  of 
the  village-bordered  and  beautiful  Bosj^horus, 
the  remains  of  this  lovely  young  Christian  rest, 
in  hope  of  the  resurrection  of  the  just.f 


*  Mrs.  Mary  E.  Van  Lennep. 
2 


t  Evangelist. 


10 


ERSKINE  J.  HA  WES. 


As  the  subject  of  this  memoii'  was  closing 
his  eyes  upon  earth,  he  seemed  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  glorious  "prospects"  beyond. 
As  they  opened  on  the  other  side,  is  there  not 
reason  to  believe  it  was  to  behold  the  vision 
realized.  And  amid  that  innumerable  throng, 
would  not  this  loved  and  sainted  one,  who  had  la- 
bored and  prayed  while  here  on  earth,  for  the  sal- 
vation of  this  now  redeemed  brother,  be  among 
the  fii-st  to  welcome  him  to  that  blest  assembly  ? 

The  eldest  of  the  six,  Louisa,*  died  at  the  age 
of  four  years  and  one  month — -a,  sweet  bud  of 
promise,  and  having  something  more  than  sim- 
ply being  a  "  little  child "  to  entitle  her  to  a 
place  among  those  of  whom  the  Saviour  has 
said,  "of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
And  was  she  not  there,  also — once  a  little  lamb, 
carried  in  the  Saviom-'s  bosom,  but  now  ma- 
tured and  shining  in  the  beauty  of  holiness — 
was  she  not  there  to  welcome  the  brother 
whom  she  had  never  seen  on  earth,  to  listen  to 

*  "  LoiiSA,  My  First-Bobs." — S.  S.  Union  ;  Philadelphia. 


CHILDHOOD. 


11 


the  hallelujahs  of  heaven,  as  the  plaudit  ^'■well 
done "  was  heard  from  the  lips  of  the  Master, 
welcoming  the  young  disciple  to  the  presence 
and  joy  of  his  Lord. 

After  the  birth  of  Erskine,  his  mother  was 
visited  with  severe  and  protracted  illness,  and 
the  little  boy  was  removed  from  home  and 
placed  where  he  could  have  that  nourishment 
which  the  state  of  his  mother's  health  prevent- 
ed her  from  aifording  him. 

At  the  age  of  one  year  and  three  months  he 
was  returned  home.  His  mother  had  seldom 
seen  him  while  absent,  and  he  looked  upon  her 
as  a  stranger.  In  vain  she  attempted  to  attach 
the  little  boy  to  herself!  The  dissimilarity  in 
age  and  appearance  between  herself  and  his 
foster-mother  added  greatly  to  the  difficulty  of 
doing  this.  Whenever  she  put  him  down  on 
the  carpet,  he  would  make  for  a  table  on  the 
further  side  of  the  room,  and,  creeping  under, 
would  stretch  up  his  little  neck  so  as  to  hide 
his  face  behind  the  drop-leaf,  and  would  sit 
there  like  a  timid  and  frightened  dove,  until 


12 


ERSKINE  J.  HAAVES. 


drawn  from  his  Mding-place  by  tlie  sound  of 
his  father's  voice ;  he  being  the  only  adult  in 
the  family  who  was  not  a  stranger  to  him. 

It  was  a  pitiful  sound  to  hear  his  moanings 
for  his  foster-mother.  The  eagei'ness  with 
which  he  would  watch  the  door  as  it  opened, 
and  the  look  of  disapi^ointment  that  would 
come  over  his  young  face,  on  not  seeing  the 
loved  and  longed-for  one  enter,  told,  more  for- 
cibly than  words  could  have  done,  the  heart- 
sickness  within.  At  length  this  gradually 
wore  away,  but  not  without  leaving  its  traces 
upon  his  character.  It  was,  doubtless,  owing 
to  these  frequent  disappointments  at  this  early 
age  that  he  had  so  little  of  the  element  of 
hopefulness  to  cheer  him  through  life.  It  also 
left  its  impress  upon  the  countenance.  A 
shade  of  melancholy  was  often  observable,  al- 
ternating with  the  smiles,  in  his  most  joyous 
moods.  A  little  brother,  who  was  nearly  four 
years  old  at  the  time  he  was  brought  home, 
and  whose  death  occurred  one  year  and  four 
months  from  that  time,  was  almost  constantly 


CHILDHOOD. 


13 


in  school,  as  was  also  an  elder  and  only  sister, 
so  that  tlie  little  fellow  was  dependent  almost 
entirely,  at  first,  on  his  mother  for  occupation 
and  amusement.  When  he  became  older — ■ 
could  talk,  and  run  about  by  himself  on  the 
premises,  it  was  soon  apparent  that  he  had  a 
mind  of  very  great  activity,  and  also  very  fruit- 
ful in  contriving  amusements  for  himself,  some 
of  which  were  not  free  from  mischief.  A  nest 
of  kittens  in  the  wood-house  had  to  be  watched 
very  carefully,  lest  he  should  make  too  free 
use  of  them  for  playthings.  .  One  morning,  his 
mother  heard  him  trundling  his  little  wheel- 
barrow with  great  swiftness  over  the  flagging 
in  the  back-yard.  On  looking  out,  she  saw  the 
little  things  flying  out  on  each  side,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  heavy  jolting  over  the  stones, 
and  that  he  was  picking  them  up  and  throwing 
them  in  again.  Calling  out  to  him,  she  ex- 
claimed, "  What  are  you  doing  ? "  He  replied, 
"  I  only  giving  kitties  an  airing ;  "  probably  in 
imitation  of  the  "airing"  to  which  he  had  been 
accustomed  in  his  own  little  carnage. 


14 


ERSKIXE  J.  HAWES. 


Some  time  after  this,  his  mother  on  seeing 
him  enter  the  wood-house,  followed  as  soon  as 
she  conveniently  could,  to  see  what  he  was  do- 
ing there.  The  place  where  the  little  brood 
was,  had  been  boarded  up,  so  that  he  could  not 
reach  them.  He  had  contrived  to  climb  over, 
and  finding  that  he  could  not  climb  back 
again  with  a  kitten  in  his  hands,  he  had  tied 
a  string  around  the  neck  of  one,  the  other  end 
of  which  he  had  fastened  to  the  belt  around 
his  waist.  With  his  prize,  he  had  just  touched 
the  floor  as  his  mother  reached  him;  but  the 
string  having  caught  on  a  nail,  the  little  thing 
hung  dangling  by  its  neck,  and  would  soon 
have  perished  if  she  had  not  been  by  to  rescue 
it.  He  had  been  made  to  understand  that  it 
would  hurt  the  little  things  to  throw  them 
down  upon  the  floor,  and  he  had  contrived 
this  method  to  get  one  over  without  hurting  it. 

But  though  he  would  "not  hm-t  the  little 
kitty,"  yet  the  haste  he  made  in  attempting 
to  disengage  the  one  in  the  string,  and  his 
frightened  look,  as  his  mother  approached. 


CHILDHOOD. 


15 


told  clearly  that  lie  was  doing  something 
which  he  knew  she  would  not  like  to  have 
him  do.  He  knew  also  that  the  boards  had 
been  put  there  for  the  purpose  of  keeping 
him  from  them. 

Another  experiment  with  the  kittens,  and 
we  will  dismiss  them,  though  much  sooner  than 
he  did  his  interest  in  them,  and  his  endeavors 
to  amuse  himself  with  them. 

When  the  little  things  had  grown,  and  be- 
come strong  enough  to  protect  themselves, 
"  with  the  pins  in  their  feet,"  they  were  taken 
from  their  place  of  confinement,  and  permitted 
to  run  about  freely. 

One  day  when  the  little  boy  had  been  miss- 
ing for  a  short  time,  search  being  made  for 
him,  he  was  found  by  the  sink,  in  the  kitchen. 
As  his  mother  approached  he  stood  perfectly, 
still,  looking  very  demurely  into  a  kettle,  from 
which  the  steam  was  rising.  His  mother  per- 
ceived that  water  was  dripping  from  the  bot- 
tom of  "his  clothes.  On  going  round  to  ascer- 
tain the  cause,  she  found  that  he  was  holding  a 


16 


ERSKINE  J.  HAAVES. 


little  kitten  by  the  neck,  all  dripping  wet,  and 
very  closely  down  by  liis  side,  to  prevent  her 
seeing  it.  Instantly  tke  truth  flashed  upon  her 
mind,  and  plunging  her  hand  into  the  water 
to  ascertain  its  heat,  she  exclaimed,  "what 
have  you  been  doing  ?" 

"  I  only  been  giving  kitty  a  bath,"  was  the 
reply. 

He  had  been  made  familiar  with  the  oper- 
ation of  the  bath  on  his  own  person,  but  of  the 
ejffects  of  water,  heated  above  a  particular 
point,  he  had  no  knowledge.  Fortunately,  the 
heat  was  not  sufficient  to  do  any  harm  in  the 
present  case,  but  the  attempt  that  he  made,  to 
hide  the  kitten  from  his  mother,  showed  that 
he  felt  he  was  doing  something  which  she 
would  think  was  wrong. 

At  this  time  he  had  never  been  burned,  so 
that  he  had  no  knowledge  of  the  effects  of  fire, 
except  of  its  warmth,  as  was  soon  ascertained. 

A  few  days  after  the  affair  of  the  bath,  an 
exceedingly  bright  coal,  surrounded  by  some 
very  white  ashes,  on  the  parlor  hearth,  attract- 


CHILDHOOD. 


17 


ed  Ws  attention.  Suddenly  lie  darted  towards 
it,  and  before  his  mother  could  prevent,  had 
seized  it  between  his  thumb  and  finger.  In- 
stantly dropping  it,  he  exclaimed,  "  O,  I  warm 
my  thumb,^  "I  warm  my  thumb,"  his  tone 
and  look  affording  abundant  evidence  of  the 
torture  he  was  then  enduring.  He  might  have 
taken  the  shining  thing  for  a  star,  having  once 
earnestly  begged  his  mother  to  get  him 
one. 

That  scene  is  still  fresh  in  memory.  It 
was  in  the  autumn,  the  season  when  the  bright 
star  known  as  Capella  shone  conspicuously  in 
the  North  East ;  just  then,  at  the  hour  for  his 
retiring.  He  had  preceded  his  mother,  and 
when,  she  reached  him,  was  standing  by  a 
north  window  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  gazing 
intently  at  the  brilliant  object.  Pointing  to- 
wards it,  he  exclaimed,  "  Mother,  do  get  a  lad- 
der and  climb  up  there" — and  "  Tare  the  world 
down" — do  "Get  me  that  star."  There  cer- 
tainly was  a  striking  resemblance  between  the 

coal,  shining  amidst  its  pearly  surroundings, 
2* 


18 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


and  that  particular  star — there  was  also  some- 
thiiig  in  his  look  and  manner,  as  he  darted  for- 
ward to  get  it,  which  seemed  to  say,  "Now 
I've  got  you." 

But  whatever  might  be  true  in  regard  to 
this,  the  burn  proved  a  very  useful  lesson.  It, 
no  doubt,  saved  him  from  a  more  dangerous 
experiment  with  that  destructive  element. 

These  facts,  although  unimportant  in  them- 
selves, are  introduced  as  specimens  of  numer- 
ous others 'of  a  like  kind,  to  show  that  it  re- 
quired no  small  amount  of  patient  and  perse- 
vering effort,  and  no  little  ingenuity,  to  furnish 
suitable  occupation  for  such  an  active,  busy  lit- 
tle being. 

When  he  was  three  years  and  nine  months 
old,  his  father  went  abroad  and  was  absent 
several  months.  Thinking  to  cheer  him,  on 
the  reception  of  each  letter,  his  mother  showed 
him  the  name  at  the  bottom  for  him  to  kiss. 
At  length,  after  repeated  acts  of  the  kind,  he 
could  bear  it  no  longer  Holding  the  letter 
in  his  hand,  with  that  emphasis  of  tone  and 


CHILDHOOD. 


19 


manner  -wliicli  only  real  earnestness  can  give, 
he  exclaimed,  "  I  don't  want  any  more  paper 
papa^  I  want  my  own  papa ;  why  don't  he 
come  home  f "  Of  com-se  the  practice  was  dis- 
continued. 

The  little  boy  had  now  become  tenderly  at- 
tached to  his  mother.  There  was  also  another 
source  of  comfort  left  to  cheer  him  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  one  whom  noio  he  loved  best  of 
all.  This  was  the  sister  spoken  of  in  the  com- 
mencement of  this  memoir.  She  was  now  ten 
years  old,  and  it  was  her  delight  to  aid  her 
mother  in  the  care  of  the  little  boy.  The  long 
summer  days  were  never  too  long  for  this. 
The  "  sunshine  and  fair  earth "  were  made  to 
contribute  to  the  furtherance  of  her  plans. 
They  were  the  capital,  the  store-house,  fi-om 
which  she  drew  her  resources.  With  her  little 
brother  she  would  roam  over  the  fields  and 
groves,  listening  to  the  song  of  the  birds,  or 
the  murmur  of  the  waterfall,  uniting  her  own 
sweet  voice  with  the  ever-varying  cadences  of 
nature.  A  pebble,  a  clump  of  moss,  a  flower,  or 


20 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


even  a  variegated  leaf,  were  to  lier  far  riclier 
sources  of  enjoyinent  than  the  most  costly 
toy. 

It  was,  doubtless,  owing  to  the  bent  given 
to  his  mind,  at  this  early  formative  period, 
that  he  ever  after  had  such  a  high  appreciation 
of  the  beauties  of  nature.  As  he  advanced  in 
life,  his  stores  of  pebbles  and  shells,  and  min- 
erals and  fossils,  were  treasured  with  the  great- 
est care.  One  of  the  last  things  his  sister  did 
for  him  was  to  gather  chalcedony  for  his  cab- 
inet among  the  rocks  on  the  mountains  of  Asia 
Minor,  near  Smyrna,  and  pebbles  and  shells 
from  the  shores  of  the  Euxine  and  the  Mar- 
mora. 

He  had  a  fine  voice,  and  his  sister  delighted 
in  uniting  it  with  her  own  in  songs  and  hymns 
suited  to  his  tender  age. 

He  early  discovered  a  fondness  for  the  pen- 
cil, and  would  take  sketches  from  the  objects 
around  him  with  considerable  accuracy. 

When  quite  young  his  father  took  him  to 
Saybrook.    On  his  return  home  his  voice  was 


CHILDHOOD. 


21 


heard  calling  for  his  mother.  On  finding  her, 
he  threw  his  cap  on  the  sofa  and  taking  from 
the  crown  a  pencil  sketch  said,  "  There,  moth- 
er, there  is  the  meeting-house  Pa  preached  in," 
— then  another,  "  That  is  the  house  we  stayed 
in."  And  the  meeting-house  and  parsonage 
at  Saybrook  were  recognized  at  once.  A  third 
which  he  produced  was  somewhat  remarkable 
for  a  boy  of  his  tender  years.  It  was  a  good, 
if  not  accurate  outline  of  the  opening  of  Con- 
necticut river  into  the  Sound,  with  the  landing 
at  Say  brook,  and  Lyme  in  the  distance.  As 
his  mother  could  not  accompany  them,  he  had 
made  a  special  effort  to  show  her  how  it  looked 
there. 

At  a  suitable  age  he  was  furnished  with  a 
drawing-master,  and  made  fair  progress  in  the 
art.  Had  he  travelled  abroad,  as  he  hoped 
and  expected  to  do,  he  would  have  found  it  an 
invaluable  accomplishment.  It  often  furnished 
him  with  pleasant  occupation,  in  the  absence 
of  books  and  other  things,  when  unexpectedly 
detained  for  a  half-holir  on  a  journey,  or  from 


22 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


other  causes  deprived  for  a  short  time  of  "  any- 
thing to  doP  With  his  pencil  and  a  stray  leaf 
from  his  pocket-book  he  would  sketch  some- 
thing from  memory,  if  there, was  no  object  of 
interest  within  sight.  But,  to  return  to  earlier 
years. 

At  the  age  of  five  years  he  was  sent  to 
school.  But,  here,  unfortunately,  the  method 
of  instruction  was  not  simple  enough  for  his 
childish  mind.  Particularly  was  this  true  in 
regard  to  Arithmetic.  His  mother  was  not 
aware  that  this  study  had  been  given  him 
until  after  several  months,  in  which  he  had 
endeavored,  though  in  vain,  to  understand  its 
mysteries.  At  length,  he  asked  her  one  day 
what  it  meant,  "to  cari^y  one  for  every  ten;''''  and 
she  found  that  long  sums  had  been  given  him 
with  this  single  direction,  to  '■^  add  u])^  and 
carry  one  for  every  ten^  At  this  time  he  con- 
tracted a  distaste  for  Arithmetic,  which  was  a 
disadvantage  to  him  through  life.  But,  al- 
though it  was  not  a  study  to  his  taste,  yet 
when  it  was  taken  up  in  a  more  intelligent 


CHILDHOOD. 


23 


manner  in  later  years,  lie  proved  himself  no 
dolt  in  that  branch  of  knowledge. 

Geometry  was  little  more-  than  a  pastime 
with  him.  This  was  a  study  just  adapted  to 
the  character  of  his  mind,  which,  when  search- 
ing for  proof  in  any  case,  never  could  rest  sat- 
isfied with  anything  short  of  certainty. 

At  the  time  of  his  entering  college,  it  had 
but  just  been  added  to  the  list  of  studies  in 
the  preparatory  course ;  he  was,  therefore, 
obliged  to  take  it  up  alone  at  home,  a  little 
previous  to  his  entrance. 

His  mother  recalls  with  pleasure  the  delight 
he  experienced,  in  the  satisfactory  nature  of  its 
demonstrations,  in  which  he  often  called  on 
her  to  participate. 

The  year  after  leaving  college  he  had  a  very 
fine  class  in  Geometry  in  the  high  school.  His 
pupils  will  not  readily  forget  the  charm  he 
threw  around  their  recitations. 


CHAPTER  II. 


ENTERS  THE  GEAMIVIAR  SCHOOL  IN  THE  SPRING  OF 
1837. — INCIDENTS  OF  LIFE,  DEVELOPMENT  OF 
TALENTS,  AND  ATTAINMENTS  FOR  THE  NEXT 
SEVEN  TEARS. 

Sometime  during  his  tenth  year,  lie  was 
placed  in  the  grammar  school  and  commenced 
his  classical  studies.  In  these,  and  also  the 
common  English  branches,  he  was  a  fair 
scholar;  but  in  English  composition  he  ex- 
celled. It  was  not  unusual  for  him  to  bring 
his  theme,  nicely  folded,  to  his  mother,  and  ask 
her  to  lay  it  up ;  assigning  as  a  reason  that  his 
teacher  had  told  him  to  preserve  it,  as  he 
might  wish  to  look  at  it,  at  some  future  time. 

Those  early  school-days  furnish  many  a 
grateful  reminiscence  to  the  mother  of  the 
orderly  conduct  of  her  son,  of  his  fidelity  in 
study,  of  his  careful  observance  of  the  rules  of 
the  school,  and  of  the  course  he  took  whenever 


26 


ERSKINE   J,  HAWES. 


he  had  violated  one.  A  single  specimen,  and 
the  earliest  remembered,  shall  be  cited  here, 
which  may  serve  for  every  instance  of  the 
kind  during  the  entire  period  of  his  school- 
days. 

On  passing  through  the  kitchen,  one  morn- 
ing, his  mother  found  him  sitting  by  the  fire, 
apparently  in  deep  thought  and  looking  very 
sober.  On  her  return  he  was  still  there.  Per- 
ceiving him  in  trouble,  she  lingered  a  little,  to 
see  if  he  would  speak  to  her  about  it.  Look- 
ing up,  he  said,  "  Mother,  I  want  to  ask  your 
advice." 

"  Well,  my  son,  about  what  ? " 

"I  have  violated  one  of  the  rules  of  the 
school." 

The  mother's  heart  beat  rather  quicker  than 
usual,  but  she  waited  in  silence  to  hear  his  ac- 
count of  the  matter,  which  was  this : — 

"  As  I  was  going  to  the  post-office  this  morn- 
ing, for  father,  I  felt  a  snow-ball  come  pat  into 
the  back  of  my  neck.  Quick  as  thought,  I 
caught  up  another,  and  sent  it  back.   Just  then 


BOYHOOD. 


27 


I  saw  Mr.   (the  principal  of  the  school) 

at  a  little  distance.  He  was  not  looking  at  me 
then,  but  I  think  he  must  have  seen  me." 

"Well,  what  if  he  did?  What  harm  in 
that  ? " 

"  He  has  made  it  a  rule  that  the  boys  shall 
not  snow-ball  in  the  street." 

"  Then  you  have  clearly  violated  that  rule." 

"What  had  I  better  do?" 

"  What  had  you  thought  of  doing,  my  son?" 

"  I  thought  I  would  go  early,  and  tell  Mr. 
 about  it,  and  ask  him  to  excuse  me." 

This  was  done.  At  noon  Erskine  returned, 
with  a  bright  face,  and  said  to  his  mother,  "  It 

was  well  I  went.    IVIr.  saw  me.    He  said 

he  should  certainly  have  called  me  up  before 
the  school;  but  that  now  he  should  excuse 
me." 

This  little  incident  illustrates  a  prominent 
feature  in  his  character — the  readiness  and  pro- 
priety with  which  he  made  acknowledgment  of 
any  offense  or  wrong  to  those  to  whom  he 
thought  such  acknowledgment  due.    To  some 


28 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


this  may  appear  a  small  matter;  but,  consti- 
tuted as  he  was — modest,  diffident,  timid  to  an 
extreme — it  required  an  amount  of  courage  far 
greater  than  would  be  necessary  in  one  differ- 
ently constituted. 

This  diffidence  was  often  a  source  of  real  suf- 
fering to  him.  A  single  instance  shall  serve 
for  many  others. 

A  lady,  with  whom  he  boarded,  on  his  first 
settlement  in  the  ministry,  speaking  to  him  one 
day  of  the  frost,  said  she  thought  a  little  piece 
written  by  Miss  Gould,  commencing, 

"  The  Frost  looked  forth,  one  clear,  cold  night," 

was  the  prettiest  thing  of  the  kind  she  had 
ever  seen.  He  looked  up,  with  a  peculiar 
smile,  and  said,  "  /  detest  itP  To  her  look  of 
inquiry  he  said,  "  It  was  the  first  piece  I  ever 
undertook  to  speak  in  public.  I  was  five  or 
six  years  old.  My  mother  had  taken  great 
pains  to  help  me  prepare  to  say  it  well.  I  had 
learned  it  perfectly.  I  came  forward  on  the 
stage  at  the  school  exhibition,  made  my  bow, 


BOYHOOD.  29 


said  one  line,  and  then,  thinking  how  many  eyes 
were  upon  me,  I  burst  into  tears  and  could 
go  no  further.  With  the  lines  I  always  connect 
that  mortifying  scene  and  what  I  then  suffered." 

From  that  time,  not  only  every  allusion  to 
the  lines,  but  also  to  the  freaks  of  that  element, 
was  carefully  avoided.  Even  the  delicate 
tracery  on  the  window-pane,  which  had  afford- 
ed him  so  much  delight,  now  became  to  him  so 
many  instruments  of  tortare. 

This  diffidence  cost  him  many  a  hard  strug- 
gle to  overcome ;  but  by  the  time  he  entered 
his  teens  he  had  so  far  conquered  it  as  not  only 
to  speak  with  ease  to  himself,  but  to  do  this  in 
a  piece  of  his  own  composing.  His  mother  has 
a  vivid  recollection  of  the  scene,  as  he  came 
forward  upon  the  stage,  with  a  manly  air,  but 
with  a  blanched  cheek,  at  the  public  exhibition 
of  the  grammar  school.  The  subject  was  one 
every  way  suited  to  his  taste — ^"  Ancient 
Ruins" — at  the  close  of  which  a  few  lines, 
quoted  from  Macauley's  "  Pompeii,"  were  pro- 
nounced with  decided  effect. 


30 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


A  little  incident  of  his  school-days  may  be 
here  related,  on  account  of  its  moral  bearing 
upon  his  character. 

Soon  after  he  entered  the  grammar  school,  a 
fair  was  announced  to  be  held  in  one  of  the 
public  halls  in  the  city.  Erskine  had  the  prom- 
ise of  attending,  if  he  would  get  all  his  lessons. 

When  the  day  came,  his  mother  handed  him 
the  note  containing  the  request  to  the  teacher 
to  excuse  him  for  a  part  of  the  afternoon.  In- 
stead of  taking  it,  he  said,  "  Mother,  I  can't  go 
to  the  fair." 

"What  is  the  reason,  my  son?  Have  you 
not  got  your  lessons  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  but  I  forgot  to  put  down  my 
number'  four.  My  teacher  has  made  it  a  rule 
that,  if  the  boys  do  not  put  down  their  num- 
bers, they  shall  be  punished  just  the  same  as  if 
they  had  not  got  their  lessons.  I  have  got  to 
stay  till  school  is  out,  and  an  hour  after."  Here 
the  little  fellow  broke  down.  Up  to  this 
point  he  had  tried  to  be  very  manly,  but  he 
could  stand  it  no  longer. 


BOYHOOD. 


31 


Knowing  that  lier  son  recited  to  an  under- 
teaclier,  his  mother  wrote  a  note  to  the  princi- 
pal of  the  school,  requesting  him  to  remit  a 
part  of  the  penalty  for  that  afternoon,  and  let 
her  son  take  it  at  some  other  time,  that  he 
might  have  half  an  hour  for  the  fair. 

On  going  to  the  hall,  his  mother  saw  the 
little  boy,  with  the  principal  of  the  school, 
ascending  the  same  staircase  with  herself.  On 
entering,  he  made  his  way  through  the  crowd, 
to  his  mother,  and,  casting  a  very  grateful  look 
back  at  the  principal,  said,  "  He  said  I  might 
come." 

The  principal  immediately  stepped  forward, 
and  said,  aside,  to  the  mother,  that  the  rule  was 
a  very  strange  one  ;  that  he  knew  nothing  of  it 
until  that  afternoon ;  he  should  see  that  it  was 
righted  ;  "  after  a  boy  had  got  his  lessons  per- 
fectly, he  should  not  be  punished  for  not  giv- 
ing himself  credit  for  it." 

The  sunshine  in  the  little  boy's  sky  was 
brighter,  that  afternoon,  for  the  shower  that 
had  preceded  it.    Instead  of  only  the  one  hour 


82 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


wMcli  his  mother  had  promised  him,  he  had 
the  whole  afternoon,  . 

He  learned  one  lesson  at  that  time,  more 
effectually  than  he  could  ever  have  been  taught 
it  by  oral  precept — that,  when  a  good  was 
promised  him  on  certain  conditions,  it  did  make 
a  difference  whether  he  complied  with  those  con- 
ditions or  not,  present  appearances  to  the  con- 
trary, notwithstanding.  True,  he  could  not 
reason  in  this  manner  in  so  many  words ;  but 
the  moral  effect  was  the  same  on  his  character. 
He  had  that  intuitive  sense  of  right  which  is 
common  to  children  who  are  not  misled  by 
false  principles  in  their  training. 

On  entering  the  grammar  school  he  was 
thrown  into  the  society  of  boys,  most  of  whom 
were  older  than  himself,  and  among  them  some 
whose  moral  training  had  been  very  different 
from  his  own.  Their  influence  over  him  was 
decidedly  bad,  particularly  in  this  respect : — 
they  made  an  imi:)ression  on  his  mind  that  it 
was  not  manly  to  ask  mother's  permission  to 
unite  with  them  in  certain  things,  of  which  he 


BOYHOOD. 


88 


doubted  her  approval.  At  first,  the  mischief 
was  so  slight  as  to  be  hardly  perceptible. 
When  it  was  at  length  discovered,  it  had  taken 
such  firm  hold  of  his  too  yielding  nature,  as  to 
require  much  vigilant  and  patient  effort  before 
it  could  be  entirely  eradicated.  The  one  thing 
which  made  it  so  hard  for  the  little  fellow  to 
free  himself  from  the  influence  of  the  bad  boys, 
was  the  fear  of  their  ridicule. 

His  sister  was  at  this  time  spending  the 
winter  at  New  Haven.  When  informed  by 
her  mother  that  her  brother  was  becoming  less 
docile  and  confiding  than  formerly,  she  imme- 
diately united  her  eftorts,  with  those  of  her 
mother's,  for  the  correction  of  the  evil. 

A  specimen  or  two  of  her  letters  will  show 
her  happy  and  winning  way  with  him,  not  only 
at  this  time,  but  during  all  the  time  from  his 
early  childhood,  until  she  left  him  at  the  age 
of  fifteen  for  her  eastern  home : 

"New  Haven,  November  1,  1838. 

"I  could  not  pass  you  by,  my  dear  little 

brother,  but,  when  writing  to  all  the  others,  I 
3 


34 


ERSKIiNE  J. 


H  A  W  E  S  . 


must  send  you  a  letter  also.  I  think  of  you 
very  often,  and  when  Wednesday  afternoon 
comes,  I  say,  'now  Erskine  has  got  to  speak, 
and  I  fear  he  will  be  frightened.'    You  have 

to  go  to  school  alone,  now  that  Mr.  G   is 

gone,  but  1  hope  you  will  be  a  very  good  boy 
and  study  your  lessons  hard. 

"  You  must  write  to  sister,  my  dear  brother, 
for  you  know  how  glad  she  would  be  to  re- 
ceive a  letter  from  you.  Have  you  written  any 
more  compositions?  "When  you  write  to  me, 
tell  me  what  subjects  you  have  written  about. 

"  Have  you  drawn  any  more  Tm'ks,  dancing  ? 
I  do  not  draw  much  now,  but  sometimes  I  take 
my  pencil  and  sketch  a  little.  You  draw  much 
more  than  I  do,  and  will  get  along  better  than 
myself.  I  shall  expect  to  see  many  pretty 
pictures  when  I  return  home — pretty  land- 
scapes, for  I  think  you  draw  those  better  than 
you  do  figures  or  flowers.* 

*  When  a  little  further  advanced,  he  sketched  natural  scenery 
with  a  very  bold  and  free  hand,  but  he  particularly  excelled  in 
drawing  animals. 


BO  YU001>  . 


85 


"  I  play  much  upon  tlie  piano,  and  we  have 
some  very  fine  music,  and  I  often  wish  I  could 
hear  your  sweet  voice ;  but  when  I  return  we 
can  again  sing  together  many  charming  pieces. 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  have  grown  any — 
have  become  more  like  a  man,  and  can  under- 
stand your  lessons  better.  I  hope  my  dear 
brother  is  improving  very  fast  in  becoming 
good,  and  kind,  and  amiable.  I  see  here  some 
sweet  little  boys,  who  are  very  obliging  and 
kind,  and  every  one  thinks  well  of  them.  My 
dear  brother  must  try  to  be  obliging  and  kind, 
and  make  every  one  feel  pleasantly  around 
him.  This  is  the  way  to  live  happily  in  the 
world." 

Again  she  writes,  February  26th : 
"  And  now,  my  dear  brother,  I  sit  down  to 
thank  you  for  your  sweet  note.  It  is  becom- 
ing warmer,  so  that  now  you  can  walk  out  and 
enjoy  the  fresh  air.  Spring,  with  its  soft  winds 
and  sweet  flowers  will  soon  be  here,  and  then 
I  shall  be  at  home  to  walk  with  you.  What 
nice  times  we  shall  have  !    I  shall  have  many 


36  ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 

things  to  tell  you  about  wliat  I  have  seen  and 
lieard,  and  you  will  have  much  to  tell  me. 
When  I  come  home  I  sliall  expect  to  find  you 
quite  a  good  Latin  scholar.  You  must  study 
hard,  then  you  will  understand  very  fast.  But, 
my  dear  brother,  when  you  are  filling  your 
mind  with  useful  knowledge,  you  must  take 
care  that  the  tall  weeds  do  not  grow  in  your 
heart.  Do  you  know  what  this  means  ?  The 
tall  weeds  are  the  bad,  wicked  feelings,  and 
you  must  try  to  pull  them  out  and  have  good, 
pleasant  things  in  your  heart. 

"  From  your  affectionate  and  only  sister, 

Maky." 

beief  sketch  of  the  amusements  and  occu- 
pations of  his  eakly  years. 
These  were  such  as  are  common  to  children 
reared  in  the  city,  with  very  few  of  those  fine 
invigorating  sports,  with  which  children  in  the 
country  are  favored,  and  which  contribute  so 
much  to  health  and  hardihood  of  constitu- 
tion.   Instead  of  the  haystacks  to  tumble  over 


BOYHOOD. 


3Y 


in  tlie  fresh  mown  fields,  and  the  lambs  to  frisk 
about  with  in  the  green  pastures,  he  had  only 
the  block-house,  and  the  tiny  animals  in  Noah's 
Ark,  with  other  little  et  ceteras^  on  the  parlor 
carpet ;  and  the  miniature  boat,  with  a  tub  of 
water  for  his  i^c/,  in  an  outer  room.  Instead 
of  the  long  range  of  hard,  smooth  crust  on  the 
hill  side,  and  the  broad,  strong  sled,  on  which 
an  elder  brother  or  sister  could  sit  and  hold 
him  in  safety,  as  it  glided  swiftly  down  the 
smooth  surface  away  into  the  valley,  any  little 
garden  slope,  on  which  his  gaily  painted  craft 
could  slide  for  a  few  yards,  must  serve  for  his 
sled  ride  in  the  city.  Then  he  had  none  of 
those  long  jolting  rides  in  the  hay-cart,  for 
which  his  smooth  cushioned  drives  in  a  city  , 
carriage  were  but  a  poor  substitute. 

But  such  recreations  as  the  parents  could 
command  were  furnished  in  no  stinted  meas- 
ure. 

His  ball,  kite,  and  fishing  rod,  in  summer, 
and  the  building  of  his  snow  forts  and  houses, 
to  be  demolished  with  missiles  of  the  same  ma- 


38 


ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 


terial,  with  Lis  skating  and  occasional  coasting, 
in  winter,  served  to  keep  hiui  in  sucli  health  as 
to  enable  him  to  continue  his  studies,  though 
not  as  "profitably  as  he  might  have  done  in 
other  circumstances. 

As  soon  as  he  was  strong  enough  to  handle 
the  shovel  and  the  spade,  he  had  the  addi- 
tional exercise  of  clearing  the  snow  from  the 
walks  around  the  house,  digging  over  the  few 
feet  of  ground  for  garden  vegetables,  and  keep- 
ing these  free  from  weeds ;  he  also  rendered  es- 
sential aid  in  the  care  of  his  father's  stable. 

The  mention  of  his  gardening  recalls  vividly 
to  the  mind  scenes  long  associated  in  memory 
with  those  early  days. 

He  was  occasionally  indulged  during  the 
long  days  in  his  summer  vacations  with  an  ex- 
cursion to  the  Talcott  Mountain,  one  of  the 
range  forming  the  western  boundaiy  of  the 
valley  of  the  Connecticut.  This  was  always  a 
great  event  with  him.  The  prospect  from  the 
tower  erected  on  its  summit ;  the  smooth  sheet 
of  water  enclosed,  almost  entirely,  within  its 


BOYHOOD. 


39 


highy  rocky  embankment ;  tke  beautiful  lawn 
sloping  down  to  the  edge  of  the  lake,  on  that 
side  left  open  to  the  view,  as  if  to  disclose  its 
peaceful  resting-place  within  ;  the  small  though 
tasteful  dwelling,  used  by  the  owner  of  the 
grounds  as  a  summer  residence,  between  which 
and  the  lake  were  fruit  and  forest  trees  inter- 
spersed in  graceful  variety,  with  many  flower- 
ing vines  and  shrubs,  both  wild  and  cultivated ; 
the  deep  ravines,  and  the  eminences  -from  which 
a  new  view  was  gained  at  every  turn;  all  these 
combined  to  form  in  the  mind  of  this  young 
enthusiast,  a  picture  little  short  of  the  Elysian 
fields. 

But  it  was  not  merely  the  j)icture  here  de- 
scribed that  was  suggested  to  the  mind,  by  the 
mention  of  his  gardening — it  was  something 
more  beautiful  than  that — it  was  his  delicate 
remembrance  of  his  mother.  Those  clumps  of 
wild  columbine,  with  their  gay  flowers  of  scar- 
let and  yellow,  occupying  any  little  spare  nook 
in  a  corner  of  his  garden  beds,  and  the  field 
violets,  which  even  now  continue  to  bloom 


40 


ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 


among  tlie  grass — it  was  tlie  memory  of  some- 
thing associated  with  these  frail  emblems,  but 
more  imperishable  than  they,  that  was  thus 
called  up  before  the  mind.  On  returning  at 
one  time  from  Ids  day  on  the  mountain,  the 
basket  that  had  carried  out  his  lunch  was  fill- 
ed with  wild  flowers.  Taking  them  out  with 
their  roots  firmly  attached,  the  earth  around 
them  being  well  saturated  with  water  from  the 
lake, 

Ihvoiiglit  these  home  for  you^ 

It  was  this  delicate  expression  of  sympathy 
and  affection,  from  the  son  to  his  mother,  that 
was  so  suddenly  called  up  and  clothed  anew 
with  life,  by  the  mention  of  one  of  the  early 
occupations  of  his  childhood. 

It  might  have  been  owing:  to  the  fact  of  his 
mother's  having  been  so  much  of  the  time  his 
sole  companion,  while  his  tastes  and  habits 
were  forming,  that  whenever  he  had  any  un- 
usual enjoyment  he  wanted  her  to  j^iarticipate 
in  it.  Especially  was  this  true  during  his 
mountain  rambles.    He  knew  how  much  she 


BOYHOOD. 


41 


enjoyed  fine  scenery — he  could  not  bring  tliat 
home  to  her,  but  he  could  the  flowers — ^he 
knew  how  much  she  loved  them.  In  the  in- 
stance narrated,  instead  of  cutting  and  tying 
them  into  a  bouquet  as  usual,  he  patiently  dis- 
engaged the  roots,  leaving  enough  of  the  soil 
to  protect  them,  until  he  could  transplant  them 
into  the  garden  at  home. 

As  he  advanced  in  years,  and  entered  upon 
a  severer  course  of  study,  it  became  necessary 
to  furnish  him  with  additional,  and  more  vigor- 
ous exercise.  For  this  purpose,  his  father  had 
a  work-bench  erected  for  him  in  an  outer  room 
in  the  back  part  of  the  house,  and  procured 
for  him  a  complete  set  of  joiners'  tools ;  with 
these,  and  material  to  practice  upon,  he  soon 
developed  a  fine  mechanical  genius. 

After  he  had  become  accustomed  to  the  use 
of  tools,  he  undertook  a  work  which  required 
much  artistic  skill — the  constructing  an  elec- 
trical machine.  For  this,  he  had  no  pattern, 
only  the  plates,  description,  and  directions  for 

making,  found  in  the  Edinburgh  Encyclopedia, 
3* 


42 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


in  his  father's  library.  This  not  only  furnish- 
ed him  with  employment,  but  kept  his  mind 
in  a  state  of  healthful  excitement  during  the 
winter  of  1843-4,  when  he  was  left  with  his 
mother,  his  father  having  accompanied  his 
only  sister  to  her  home  in  a  foreign  land. 
At  length  all  the  parts  were  finished  and  nice- 
ly adjusted  to  each  other,  and  the  machine 
stood  up — no  inferior  model  of  its  kind.  The 
whole,  with  the  exception  of  a  little  assistance 
at  the  smithery,  and  the  turning  lathe,  his  own 
workmanship.  It  was  a  powerful  machine. 
Of  this  he  had  soon  a  practical  demonstration. 
Having  charged  his  jar  at  one  time  very  high- 
ly, he  took  the  whole  shock  into  his  arm. 
The  inflammation  caused  by  the  electric  fluid 
was  so  great,  that  it  was  necessary  to  resort  to 
medical  aid  in  order  to  reduce  it. 

The  next  eSort  was,  the  constructing  a 
camera  obscura.  This  he  made  use  of  in 
sketching  scenes  near  home,  to  send  to  his 
sister  abroad.  These  were  a  source  of  much  en- 
joyment to  her ;  while  looking  upon  them,  she 


BOYHOOD. 


43 


imagined  herself  again  walking  in  the  old  fa- 
miliar streets,  or  entering  the  houses,  the  doors 
of  which  were  standing  open  to  receive  her. 

Next,  a  magic  lantern  occupied  his  leisure 
hours.  Then  a  solar  micro-scope,  each  of  which 
displayed  much  skill  and  answered  well  the 
use  for  which  it  was  intended. 

But  his  highest  enjoyment  was  in  music. 
When  he  was  a  little  boy  he  always  had  two 
or  three  Jews-harps  on  hand ;  and  an  JEolian 
harp  of  his  own  constructing,  showed  no  little 
ingenuity.  At  one  time,  the  table  bell  was 
missing ;  when  searched  for,  it  was  found  sus- 
pended in  the  wood-house,  with  a  little  wheel, 
taken  from  his  tin  cart,  and  a  long  cord  at- 
tached, so  that  it  could  be  rung  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  bell  that  called  him  each  morning 
to  school.  Soon  after  entering  his  teens,  his 
father  furnished  him  with  a  flute.  In  the  use 
of  this  long  coveted  instrument,  he  found, 
not  only  much  enjoyment  himself,  but  also 
gave  much  to  others.  One  of  his  friends  had 
a  very  fine-toned  violin,  and  an  evening  or  two 


44  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

iu  each  week  was  spent  in  practicing  together 
some  piece  adapted  to  the  two  instruments. 
As  they  were  good  performers,  and  their  pieces 
selected  with  care,  the  two  friends  made  no  in- 
dijfferent  music.  Those  strains,  as  they  come 
floating  along  down  the  vale  of  time,  seem  to 
the  ear  of  memory,  like  some  sweet,  solemn 
requiem  for  the  departed.  But  with  them 
comes  also  a  more  joyous  ref  min^  bringing  the 
consoling  hope,  that,  though  lost  to  earth,  an- 
other strain  has  been  added  to  the  minstrelsy  of 
the  heavenly  choir,  another  voice,  to  those  of 

"  The  glowing  seraphs  round  the  fhrone." 

In  addition  to  these  evenings  with  this  friend, 
he  often  joined  in  larger  circles  of  instrumental 
music  during  the  few  years  preceding  his  en- 
tering college.    In  these  he  took  great  delight. 

But  there  was  one  instrument,  exquisitely 
tuned,  the  work,  not  of  human  skill,  to  which 
he  resorted  oftenest,  and  with  greatest  pleasure. 
For  improvement  in  the  use  of  this  he  had 
many  facilities ;  at  first  in  the  juvenile  sing- 


BOYHOOD. 


45 


ing  school  and  concert.  His  voice,  wliicli  at 
this  time  was  a  clear,  high  soprano,  fitted  him 
to  take  a  prominent  part  in  the  latter,  but 
such  was  his  diffidence,  that  he  could  seldom 
be  induced  to  perform  a  piece  alone.  His 
sister  had  early  learned  to  read  music,  and 
when  he  began  to  use  his  voice  in  singing,  she 
could  do  much  for  its  improvement. 

When  his  voice  became  settled,  as  it  did  in 
maturer  age,  into  a  deep,  rich,  smooth  bass,  he 
took  his  place  in  the  choir  in  his  father's  church. 
He  was  a  leader  for  a  part  of  the  time,  at  least, 
in  the  college  choir,  and  the  same  office  was 
assigned  him  in  the  Theological  Seminary.  In 
short,  wherever  he  was,  as  a  pupil,  a  teacher,  a 
student  in  college,  in  the  Theological  Seminary, 
he  was  always  known  as  sympathizing  deeply 
in  all  musical  improvements. 

After  his  settlement  in  the  ministry,  his  in- 
terest in  this  divine  art  knew  no  abatement. 
He  found  a  very  fine  choir  in  his  own  church, 
and  he  delighted  in  encouraging  them  by  his 
presence  in  their  musical  gatherings. 


46 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


One  of  the  members  of  his  church,  in  a  letter 
of  condolence  to  his  parents,  speaks  thus  of 
this  prominent  accomplishment  in  their  youth- 
ful pastor : 

"  Your  dear  son  was  an  enthusiastic  lover  of 
music.  Often  has  he  met  at  our  dwelling  in 
the  happy  circle  of  the  lovers  of  sacred  song, 
uniting  with  them  with  heartfelt  pleasure  and 
delight.  And  when  from  around  that  sacred 
spot  where  rest  his  precious  remains,  the  notes 
of  that  delightful  song  ascended  on  high,  re- 
sounding among  the  spreading  branches  of  that 
grove,  it  seemed  as  if  his  redeemed  and  happy 
spirit  must  be  hovering  above,  uniting  in  the 
sweet  harmony  with  heavenly  rapture." 

Another  member  of  his  church  remarked, 
"  As  I  have  looked  at  him  while  pouring  forth 
his  rich  voice,  I  have  often  been  reminded  of 
a  remark  I  once  heard  Mr.  Hart*  make  of  a 
very  good  singer : — I  love  to  look  at  him  while 
singing,  and  think  what  music  he  will  make  in 
heaven." 

■  A  former  beloved  pastor  of  that  church. 


CHAPTER  III. 


PREVENTED    EiSTTEEING  COLLEGE  BY  THE  STATE 

OF    HIS    HEALTH  LIFE    ON    A    FAEM  SIX 

MONTHS  IN  WILLISTON  ACADEMY. 

•  At  seventeen  years  of  age  lie  was  fitted  for 
college.  He  had  also  paid  some  attention  to 
the  French  language,  and  had  made  fair  pro- 
gress in  its  attainment,  when  his  health  failed, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  discontinue  his  studies 
for  a  time. 

His  classmates  entered  college,  and  he  was 
left  behind.  This  was  a  great  trial  to  him  at 
the  time,  but  it  was  afterward  viewed  by  him 
in  a  very  different  light.  When,  at  the  age  of 
nineteen,  he  did  enter,  he  felt  that  he  had  a 
much  better  appreciation  of  the  privileges  of 
a  collegiate  course,  and  that  he  was  qualified 
to  make  a  much  better  use  of  those  privileges, 
than  if  he  had  entered  at  an  earlier  period. 

The  summer  of  1845  was  spent  upon  a  farm 


48 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


in  the  country.  Before  entering  upon  his  new 
employment,  he  procured  a  treatise  on  agricul- 
ture, and  studied  it  thoroughly.  He  knew  that  he 
was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  business  of  farming. 
True,  he  could  use  the  shovel  and  the  hoe,  the 
garden  rake  and  spade  ;  but  of  the  uses  of  the 
field  implements  he  knew  nothing.  Then,  he 
was  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  soils,  of  the  best 
manner  of  making  them  productive,  in  short, 
of  everything  relating  to  the  cultivation  of  a 
farm.  The  knowledge  he  thus  acquired  was 
of  great  use  when  he  entered  upon  the  practi- 
cal part  of  the  employment.  The  gentleman, 
on  whose  farm  he  worked,  said  that  he  took 
hold  like  a  farmer,  and  that  he  would  have 
done  as  much  work  as  his  hired  man,  if  he  had 
allowed  him  to  do  it. 

The  pains  he  took  in  qualifying  himself  for 
his  new  employment,  strikingly  illustrates  one 
of  his  prominent  characteristics — never  to  un- 
dertake anything  until  he  was  quite  sure  he 
could  do  it  well.  This  he  afterwards  carried 
to  such  an  extreme,  as  greatly  to  impede  his 


FARM  LIFE. 


49 


usefulness,  and  at  one  time  threatened  to  de- 
stroy it  entirely. 

He  had  nearly  concluded  liis  theological 
studies,  and  was  soon  to  appear  before  the  pub- 
lic as  a  candidate  for  the  pulpit.  Up  to  this 
time,  his  father  had  never  been  able  to  obtain 
from  him  a  single  extemporaneous  effort.  He 
continued  his  theological  studies  for  more 
than  a  year  after  having  received  his  license 
to  preach.  He  had  occasionally  delivered  a 
written  discourse  in  the  lecture  room,  had  read 
the  hymns  and  offered  the  prayers,  but  more 
than  this,  he  could  never  be  persuaded  to  do. 
His  father  became  discouraged. 

On  his  mother's  remonstrating  with  him  on 
his  unwillingness  to  comply  with  his  father's 
w  ishes,  he  very  gravely  assigned  this  as  the 
reason:  "/  liave  fuade  up  my  mind  tliat  I 
loill  never  do  anything  that  I  cannot  do 
weir 

"Then,"  my  son,  was  his  mother's  reply, 
"■You  may  make  up  your  mind  that  you  will 
never  do  anything.    You  will  never  certainly 


50 


ERSKINE    J.  HAAVES. 


know  that  you  can  do  a  tiling  well  until  you 
try,  and  you  will  never  try,  at  tlie  risk  of  mak- 
ing a  blunder ;  so  you  see,  tbat  you  will  never 
do  anything." 

This  8age  resolution^  he  found  it  expedient 
to  modify  ;  a  measure  for  which  he  was  after- 
wards truly  grateful,  when  called  to  off-hand, 
extemporaneous  efforts  among  his  own  people. 
At  the  time  of  his  settlement  in  the  ministry, 
he  had  acquired  so  much  ease  and  readiness 
in  these,  that  his  people  regarded  them  as  the 
most  interesting  and  efficient  of  his  public  per- 
formances. 

But  to  return  to  the  farm. 

Of  his  employment  on  the  farm,  he  writes 
thus  to  his  father  : 

"  I  have  been  very  busy,  helping  about  hoe- 
ing corn  and  potatoes,  making  hay,  binding 
and  stacking  rye,  boring  holes  in  rocks  for 
blasting,  making  wells,  with  a  variety  of  other 
things.  Making  hay  is  nothing  but  sport.  But 
borinoj  holes  in  rocks  and  hoeing  corn  is  hard 
work.    I  have  sometimes  worked  more  than 


FARM  LIFE. 


51 


half  a  day  on  a  single  rock,  but  tiiere  is,  never- 
theless, much  satisfaction  in  seeing  the  hard  iron 
rock  blown  to  pieces  with  gunpowder."  Of  his 
studies  he  writes,  "  I  am  very  much  pleased 
with  your  suggestion  about  reading,  and  gen- 
erally contrive  to  read  a  little  every  day.  I  am 
studying  Sallust  in  order  to  keep  up  my  mem- 
ory of  Latin.  I  find  my  knowledge  of  that 
classic  is  considerably  refreshed  by  helping 
J  about  his  lessons.  At  Mr.  L.'s  sugges- 
tion we  have  made  a  contract,  I  am  to  assist 
him  in  his  Latin,  and  he  again  is  to  give  me  a 
few  hints  about  farming." 

Of  his  recreation,  he  writes  thus  to  his 
mother : 

"  Besides  farming,  there  will  be  plenty  of 
other  sport  here.  There  are  two  trout  brooks 
about  a  mile  or  two  out  of  the  place,  and  I  in- 
tend sometime,  in  comjDany  with  J.,  with  Mr. 
L.'s  permission,  to  pay  them  a  visit.  Such 
visits,  though,  I  suppose  will  be  very  rare,  and 
I  intend  they  shall  be. 

"  I  hope  also  to  visit  the  '  hanging  hills.'  I 


52 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


can  see  the  range  distinctly  from  my  window, 
and  I  intend,  some  time,  to  make  a  drawing  of 
tliem  and  send  you." 

His  love  of  the  beautiful  in  nature  lost 
none  of  its  ardor  while  laboring  on  the 
farm,  Of  this,  his  letters  home  gave  abundant 
proof. 

To  his  mother : 

"  Since  I  have  been  here  I  have  had  many 
pleasant  rides.  Last  evening  I  had  a  most  de- 
lightful one.  The  moon  was  shining  brightly, 
gilding  the  tops  of  the  mountains  and  trees. 
The  house  where  I  stopped  was  situated  in  a 
most  romantic  place,  and,  a  few  rods  from  it, 
a  brook  ran  gurgling  and  splashing  by ;  while, 
far  down  in  the  glen,  I  heard  for  the  first 
time,  the  clear,  protracted,  silvery  notes  of  the 
'  whip-poor-will,'  uttering  that  word  so  plainly 
that  it  seemed  to  proceed  from  the  human 
voice.  It  was  one  of  the  most  pleasant  and 
delightful  spots  I  was  ever  in,  and  I  can  give 
you  but  a  faint  description  of  it." 

One  more  extract  from  his  letters  home,  will 


AVILI.ISTON  ACADEMY. 


53 


close  the  account  of  this,  to  him,  so  pleasant 
and  profitable  a  summer. 

"  A  few  days  ago,  I  went  with  J.,  and  the 
hired  man,  to  Pi'ospect  on  the  mountains,  to 
gather  blackberries ;  and  we  were  amply  re- 
paid, not  only  in  the  quantity  of  fruit  we 
gathered,  but  also  in  the  fine  prospect  which 
everywhere  lay  spread  out  before  us.  The 
scenery  wanted  neither  rocks  nor  mountains  to 
give  it  a  sublime  and  bold  appearance,  nor 
fields  nor  meadows  to  give  it  beauty,  nor 
spires,  villages  and  country  seats,  to  give  it 
variety,  but  all  these  combined  together, 
formed  a  most  magnificent  panorama." 

In  the  month  of  September,  he  returned 
home  much  invigorated  in  body  and  mind,  and, 
as  he  said,  "  all  toughened  up  and  ready  for 
study." 

In  the  month  of  December,  1846,  he  entered 
Williston  Academy.  This  was  merely  an  ex- 
periment to  ascertain  whether  he  had  the  re- 
quisite health  to  pursue  a  collegiate  course  and 
enter  upon  a  professional  life. 


5-1 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


The  experiment  proved  successful,  and  after 
a  six-montlis'  residence,  in  wliicli  he  made  many 
friends,  and  gained  for  himself  a  fair  reputation 
for  scholarship,  and  an  enviable  one  for  gen- 
tlemanly and  correct  moral  deportment,  he  re- 
turned home. 

The  mountains  in  the  vicinity  of  Easthamp- 
ton  furnished  him  with  a  fine  opportunity  of 
indulging  his  taste  for  natural  scenery.  During 
his  residence  there  he  made  two  excursions  to 
Mount  Tom.  The  first,  in  the  month  of 
December,  shortly  after  his  entrance  to  the 
seminary,  he  thus  describes  in  his  letters 
home : 

"Last  Saturday,  in  company  with  a  few 
others,  I  made  the  ascent  of  Mount  Tom,  and  I 
must  tell  you  what  an  adventure  I  had  of  it.  I 
suppose  you  will  think  me  very  foolish  and 
venturesome ;  and,  I  must  confess,  I  think  so 
myself 

"  In  the  afternoon,  seven  of  us  started  for  the 
mountain,  one  carrying  a  hatchet,  another  some 
matches  with  which  to  build  a  fire  on  the  sum- 


W  1 1.  L  I S  T  0  N  ACADEMY. 


55 


mit,  for  it  was  very  cold  and  the  wind  blew 
very  hard. 

."  After  walking  about  two  miles,  we  came  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountain.  'Now,  the  regular 
way  would  be  to  go  around  a  portion  of  it  and 
ascend  in  that  way,  but  one  of  our  party,  for 
the  sake  oT  the  name  of  it,  proposed  to  make  a 
bold  push  straight  up  the  steep  side,  and,  as  it 
were,  take  the  mountain  by  storm.  This  was 
strongly  objected  to  by  some  of  us,  but  we 
were  finally  influenced  by  the  rest  to  make  the 
attempt.  So  up  we  went ;  at  one  time  on  all 
fours,'  at  another,  grasping  some  shrub  or  some 
projecting  rock.  The  mountain  was  covered 
with  snow,  and  a  crust  having  formed  over  it, 
this  gave  some  secui-ity  to  our  feet.  Soon  the 
party  separated,  each  striking  out  a  different 
course  for  himself.  There  was  a  gully  extend- 
ing quite  up  the  mountain  and  filled  with  snow. 
I  took  the  gully,  but  soon  began  to  repent  of 
this,  as  the  snow  was  quite  deep,  and  tlie  foot- 
ing quite  precarious.  To  add  to  my  trouble, 
my  hands  became  numb,  so  that  I  could  scarcely 


56  ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 

grasp  anything  that  came  in  my  way,  and  one 
of  my  limbs  became  cramped. 

"  At  last  I  had  arrived  to  within  about  a  hun- 
dred feet  of  t^ie  top,  and  was  thinking  with 
some  satisfaction  that  I  should  soon  be  there, 
when,  on  looking  around,  I  saw  on  each  side, 
two  almost  perpendicular  barriers  o:^  rock,  and 
also  that  the  gully  was  filled  with  ice,  which 
was  so  slippery  that  I  could  proceed  no  further. 
I  must  confess  that  I  was  a  little  frightened 
at  my  situation,  for  I  was  almost  exhausted. 
After  deliberating  a  little,  I  raised  my  voice, 
and  called  as  loud  as  I  could.  It  was^some 
time  before  I  could  make  myself  heard.  The 
party  had  now  reached  the  top.  At  length, 
one  of  them  put  his  head  over  the  ravine  and 
just  caught  a  glimpse  of  mine.  After  some 
consultation,  it  was  decided  that  the  only  way 
for  me  was  to  slide  down  on  my  back  the  same 
way  that  I  came,  and  so  I  did,  expecting  all  the 
while  to  have  my  neck  broken :  but  after  I  had 
gone  some  distance  in  this  way,  I  began  rather 
to  like  the  motion,  until  I  tore  my  clothes, 


WILLISTON    ACADEMY.  51 

which  was  not  quite  so  pleasant.  In  my  de- 
scent, I  slid  about  two  hundred  feet,  and  cer- 
tainly I  never  had,  nor  ever  want  to  have,  such 
a  slide  again,  Finally,  I  once  more  found  my- 
self on  firm  footing,  and  making  the  ascent  in 
the  tracks  of  the  others.  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  I  was  very  much  wearied,  and  do  not  know 
what  I  should  have  done,  had  not  one  of  my 
companions  come  to  my  assistance.  By  taking 
hold  of  his  hand,  and  grasping  the  rocks,  and 
now  and  then  a  tree,  I  at  last  nianaged  to  gain 
the  top,  but  so  exhausted  I  could  scarcely  stand. 
After  having  warmed  myself  by  a  good  roaring 
fire,  and  dried  my  wet  stockings  and  gloves,  I 
regained  my  strength  and  spirits,  and  could 
look  around  with  infinite  pleasure  on  the  almost 
unbounded  panorama  on  either  side  of  me. 
You  can  not  conceive  what  a  sublime  and  beau- 
tiful view  it  was,  I  could  see,  away  off  in  the 
distance,  the  faint  though  marked  outline  of 
old  Monadnock,  many  other  bold  mountains 
appearing  on  every  side.  But  the  most  inter- 
esting part  of  the  view  was  that  which  lay  all 
4 


58 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


along  the  winding  Connecticut,  which  we  could 
distinctly  trace  almost  as  far  as  Hartford,  In- 
deed, it  being  a  very  clear  day,  we  thought  we 
could  see  Hartford,  away  in  the  distance,  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach.  We  could  also  see 
distinctly  East  and  West  Rock  in  New  Haven, 
and  the  bold  juts  of  the  Berlin  and  Meriden 
range.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  was  the  most 
interested  in  the  prospect  which  lay  to  the 
south." 

As  the  spring  opened,  in  a  letter  to  his 
mother,  among  more  important  items,  is  this 
little  episode : — 

"A  few  days  ago,  while  poring  over  my 
algebra,  I  heard  the  first  blue-bird  singing  to 
the  rising  sun,  on  a  tree  directly  in  front  of 
my  window.  What  a  thrill  the  first  note  of 
this  harbinger  of  spring  sent  through  me.  In 
a  moment  my  mind  was  diverted  from  my  dry 
lesson,  and  went  roaming  over  green  mea- 
dows, and  purling  brooks,  and  up  the  moun- 
tain side,  and  where  else  I  cannot  say.  Now 
I  know  just  what  you  are  thinking  of,     '  If 


WILLIS  TON  ACADEMY. 


59 


Erskine  allows  Ms  mind  to  be  diverted  from 
his  studies  by  the  simple  song  of  a  blue-bird, 
lie  will  not  accomplish  much  this  term.'  But 
I  must  excuse  myself  by  saying,  the  mind 
often  works  better  after  some  such  diversion 
by  way  of  change,  but  it  would  not  do  to 
have  too  many  such  diversions." 

In  the  month  of  April  he  made  a  second  as- 
cent up  the  same  mountain,  but  "  so  changed 
was  the  aspect  of  nature,  that  it  hardly  seemed 
like  the  same." 

His  own  account  of  this  to  his  mother : 
"  Last  week  I  made  a  second  visit  to  Mount 
Tom,  but  the  auspices  under  which  I  visited  it, 
this  time,  were  far  different  from  those  be- 
fore, 

"  The  snow  had  all  disappeared,  and  we  made 
the  ascent  by  the  customary  path.  The  day  was 
very  fine,  and  with  the  aid  of  a  good  glass  we 
saw  many  objects  of  interest.  Right  under 
our  feet,  flowed  the  beautiful  Connecticut,  hav- 
ing its  smooth  surface  broken  by  the  rapids  at 
Hadley  Falls.     We  could  almost  look  into  the 


60 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


windows  of  the  semlnaiy  at  South  Hadley, 
and  see  Miss  Lyon  surrounded  by  her  pupils. 
Turning  our  glass  in  the  direction  of  Spring- 
field, we  saw  distinctly'  the  'flag  on  the  United 
States  Arsenal,  the  cars  at  the  depot,  with 
many  other  striking  objects ;  we  could  follow 
the  Connecticut  almost  as  far  as  Hartford,  as  it 
gracefully  flowed  on  through  its  beautiful  val- 
ley. Still  farther  south,  lay  the  bold  Berlin  and 
Meriden  mountains,  and  with  our  glass  we  got 
a  glimpse  of  Wadsworth's  Tower,  on  the  Tal- 
cot  range.  But  there  was  one  thing,  on  which 
I  gaze^d  oftenest,  with  intense  interest — and 
what  was  that  ?  Away  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  nearly  on  the  horizon,  could  be  seen,  a 
minute  spot  of  light;  with  the  aid  of  the 
glass,  this  light  spot  was  transformed  into  the 
tapering  spires  of  my  dear  old  Hartford.  It 
was  Hartford,  undoubtedly,  for  I  counted  its 
seven  prominent  steeples,  and  could  even  dis- 
cern the  dark  Ejjiscopal  tower.  It  fairly  made 
me  feel  homesick.  Well,  school  closes  in  four 
weeks,  and  then  I  shall  find  myself  no  more  in 


WILLISTON    ACADEMY.  61 


Easthampton,  but  again  participating  in  the 
pleasures  of  home." 

While  at  Easthampton,  he  gained  some 
knowledge  of  life  which  was  of  use  to  him 
afterwards.  As  might  be  supposed  from  the 
previous  brief  sketch  of  his  character,  he  had 
no  relish  for  practical  jokes,  and  he  never 
intended  or  expected  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  them.  But  on  his  first  entering  the 
school  boarding-house,  where  were  several 
pupils  besides  himself,  he  got  drawn  into  two 
or  three  of  these. 

One  of  the  pupils,  not  over  scrupulous  in  his 
observance  of  the  rules  of  the  school,  and  notic- 
ing the  exactness  with  which  Erskine  observed 
them,  determined  to  make  him  violate  one,  at 
least,  if  possible.  He  soon  found-  opportunity 
for  doing  this.  Having  borrowed  something  of 
Erskine,  which  he  knew  would  be  needed  dur- 
ing the  hour  of  study,  when  all  the  pupils 
were  required  to  be  in  their  rooms,  he  pur- 
posely avoided  returning  it.  When  Erskine 
went  to  him  for  it,  he  suddenly  shut  the  door, 


62 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


locked  it,  and  putting  tlie  key  in  his  pocket, 
said,  "  Now,  you  are  not  going  down  till  the 
study  hour  is  over."  Erskine  finding  that 
remonstrance  was  vain,  and  not  thinking  it 
best  to  attempt  obtaining  the  key  by  force, 
as  in  that  case  the  house  would  be  disturbed, 
and  he  would  be  required  to  report  unfavor- 
ably of  the  offender,  yielded  as  best  he  could 
to  the  "  durance  vile^''  until  such  time  as  his 
jailor  saw  fit  to  liberate  him.  His  generous 
and  gentlemanly  conduct  at  this  time,  gained 
for  him  the  respect  of  all  to  whom  the  trans- 
action became  known. 

He  now  found  it  necessary  to  be  continually 
on  his  guard,  lest  he  should  be  drawn  into  a 
participation  in  some  foolish  prank,  planned 
by  the  idle,  and  restless  for  the  annoyance  of 
the  more  studious  of  the  pupils. 

On  passing  through  an  upper  hall  one  morn- 
ing, two  of  the  pupils,  who  were  pulling  with 
all  their  might  upon  a  rope,  called  out  to  him 
to  stop.  On  hearing  the  request,  "  Hawes, 
lend  us  a  hand  here,"  he  turned  back,  and,  not 


WILLISTON  ACADEMY. 


63 


noticing  that  the  rope  was  fastened  to  a  door 
knob,  and  that  the  door  opened  inward,  he 
grasped  it  with  both  hands.  Instantly  they 
fled,  when  the  door  yielding  to  the  force  ap- 
plied on  the  inside,  opened  with  a  bound,  and 
out  sprang  the  infuriated  pupil,  who  had  been 
thus  kept  there  against  his  will,  and,  with 
clenched  fists,  darted  upon  his  innocent  vic- 
tim. Instantly  they  fell — the  pupil,  restrain- 
ing, as  by  magic,  the  intended  blow,  exclaim- 
ed, with  a  voice,  agitated  by  the  sudden  revul- 
sion of  feeling,  "  Hawes,  if  I  had  not  seen  that 
it  was  you,  I  should  have  felled  you  to  the 
floor."  An  apology  was  of  course  made, 
which  set  the  matter  right.  Erskine  had 
now  gained  for  himself  so  much  respect  among 
his  fellow  pupils,  that  he  was  not  afterwards 
molested.  He  had  also  gained  what  he  after- 
wards found  occasion  for,  in  his  college  life — 
"  courage  to  be  thought  simple^  concerning 
evil." 

A  few  remarks  here  seem  to  be  demanded 
to  correct  a  mistake  that  will  very  naturally  be 


64 


ERSKINE  J. 


H  A  W  E  S  . 


made  on  reading  the  foregoing  pages,  viz., 
That  it  was  really  easy  for  him  to  do  right, 
easier  than  the  contrary.  This  was  far  from 
being  true.  Could  all  the  struggles  he  was 
obliged  to  make  to  extricate  himself  in  the 
hour  of  temptation,  be  recounted  here,  they 
would  be  seen  to  be  no  mere  child's  play. 
The  thing  which,  more  than  any  other,  was  in- 
strumental in  keeping  him  from  being  swept 
away,  if  not  utterly  ruined,  by  the  tempta- 
tions with  which  his  path  was  beset,  at  every 
stage,  from  infancy  to  manhood,  was  his  confi- 
dence in  his  mother. 

To  a  kind  Providence  it  was  owing  that  this 
one  link  in  the  chain  which  bound  him  to 
a  life  of  virtue  and  usefulness,  was  never 
broken. 

In  September,  184*7,  he  entered  Yale  Col- 
lege. It  was  with  much  uncertainty  as  to  his 
being  able  to  continue  his  studies,  that  he  en- 
tered on  his  collegiate  course,  but  contrary  to 
his  own  fears,  and  also  those  of  his  friends,  his 
health  was  much  better  during  the  four  years 


YALE  COLLEGE. 


65 


of  his  college  life,  than  at  any  previous  period 
of  the  same  length.  This  was  doubtless 
mainly  owing  to  the  climate — its  proximity  to 
the  sea ;  but  something  must  be  attributed  to 
the  regularity  of  his  .college  life.  As  must 
have  been  seen,  he  had  a  great  dread  of  being 
found  delinquent. 

With  his  customary  forethought,  he  pro- 
vided against  the  possibility  of  this,  in  regard 
to  his  college  exercises. 

The  boarding-house  selected  for  him  was  at 
some  distance  from  the  college,  and  out  of 
hearing  of  the  college  bell.  His  mother,  at 
his  request,  placed  herself  near  the  chapel, 
watch  in  hand,  while  he  passed  to  and  from 
his  boarding  place,  that  so  he  might  time  the 
distance.  The  same  forethought  and  pre- 
cision entered  into  all  his  arrangements. 

His  first  visit  home,  was  at  the  annual 
Thanksgiving,  November,  184*7.  He  met  his 
mother  at  the  door,  and  with  a  beaming  coun- 
tenance said,  "  Mother,  I  have  done  it^''  allud- 
ing to  something  which  she  had  been  exceed- 
4* 


66 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


ingly  desirous  to  have  him  do,  but  to  whicli 
he  had  manifested  great  reluctance. 

To  the  cordial  welcome  of  his  father,  he 
responded  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  that  it 
was  not  undeserved.  "  Father,  I  have  not 
been  late  to  prayers,  nor  absent  from  prayers, 
once.  I  have  not  lost  a  lesson,  nor  had  a  poor 
lesson,  onceP  These  things  were  said,  not  in 
the  spirit  of  boasting,  but  to  assure  his  parents 
that  he  had  not  been  unmindful  of  the  privi- 
leges they  had  conferred  upon  him,  but  had 
improved  them  to  the  extent  of  his  power. 
That  was  truly  a  thanksgiving  visit. 

Here  was  one  secret  of  his  uniform  health, 
a  cheerfulness  resulting  from  the  consciousness 
of  doing  right. 


CHAPTEK  IV. 


EELIGIOUS  TRAINING  PROFESSION  OF  RELIGION 

 COLLEGE  LIFE  TEAR  IN  TEACHING. 

Although  the  whole  course  of  his  training, 
moral  and  intellectual,  was  aimed  to  be -con- 
ducted on  strictly  Christian  principles,  yet 
there  were  times  when  the  great  doctrines  and 
duties  of  religion  were  brought  to  bear  more 
immediately  on  the  mind  and  heart. 

As  soon  as  the  little  one  could  take  in  the 
idea  of  One  who  lived  above  the  sky,  of  a 
heavenly  Father  there,  he  was  taught  to  ad- 
dress to  hira  little  petitions  in  simple  words,  in 
order  to  awaken,  in  his  yet  unformed  mind,  a 
sense  of  his  dependence  upon  him,  as  also  of 
his  accountability  to  him  for  all  his  conduct. 

During  this  early  period,  a  scene  is  remem- 
bered, with  a  distinctness  and  vividness  as  if 
of  yesterday's  occurrence. 

It  was  sometimes  necessary  for  the  mother 


68 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


to  take  her  little  boy  with  her,  during  her 
hour  for  retiremeut.  At  such  times  a  quan- 
tity of  toys  would  be  placed  before  him,  in 
some  pleasant  part  of  the  room,  while  his 
mother  retired  to  some  more  secluded  spot. 
On  one  such  occasion  his  little  feet  were  heard 
patting  softly  along  to  the  chair  where  his 
mother  was  kneeling.  Having  laid  his  head 
upon  it  he  continued  looking  wistfully  up  into 
her  face,  until  she  laid  her  hand  upon  his  fore- 
head and  invoked  for  him  the  blessing  of  his 
heavenly  Father.  Those  soft  eyes !  they  seem 
to  be  looking  up  into  that  mother's  face  now, 
she  would  fain  hope  not  reproachfully  !  But 
oh,  what  a  moment  was  that,  when  the  young, 
the  immoi'tal  spirit  of  the  little  one,  was  tak- 
ing the  direction  of  its  flight  for  eternity. 

The  scene  never  rises  before  the  mind,  with- 
out the  most  overwhelming  sense  of  a  mother's 
responsibility  in  shaping  the  immortal  destiny 
of  her  child,  and  the  necessity  that  is  laid  upon 
her,  to  see  to  it,  that  nothing  be  wanting  on  her 
part,  to  secure  to  the  little  one,  committed  to 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING. 


69 


her  care  for  that  very  purpose,  au  immortality 
of  blessedness. 

From  this  time  onward,  as  his  mind  opened 
to  the  reception  of  ideas,  he  was  instructed  in 
the  simple  elements  of  divine  truth,  the  basis 
of  which  was,  the  fallen  and  ruined  state  of 
man,  and  his  recovery  to  the  favor  and  friend- 
ship of  God,  through  the  mediation  and  suf- 
fering of  Jesus  Christ.  Such  insti'uction  was 
never  given  him  in  a  cold,  formal  way. 

The  simple  stories  of  the  Bible,  the  fami- 
liar hymn,  such  as  "  Watts'  Divine  Songs,"  and 
other  attractive  methods,  were  adopted  to 
draw  his  young  heart  away  from  the  world, 
and  lead  him  to  seek  his  happiness  in  the  love 
and  service  of  God.  But  although  his  mind 
was  often  deeply  impressed  by  divine  truth, 
particularly  truths  relating  to  his  own  con- 
dition as  a  lost  sinner,  exposed  to  eternal  death, 
and  as  often  during  childhood  was  pointed 
to  him  who  said,  "  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me,"  and  in  maturer  age,  to  "  The 
Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 


70 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


world,"  yet  something  kept  his  young  heart 
back  from  God,  and  his  parents  were  made 
painfully  to  feel  the  necessity  of  divine  inter- 
position in  his  behalf. 

Soon  after  entering  the  grammar  school,  he 
was  greatly  distressed  about  himself  He  felt 
that  he  was  a  sinner,  needing  pardon  and 
peace  with  God,  and  cried  out  in  anguish  of 
spirit,  "  Oh,  mother,  what  shall  I  do  ? '.'  And 
what  could  his  mother  tell  him  to  do,  but  to 
commit  himself  to  Him^  who  only  could  do  for 
him  what  he  needed. 

At  this  time  he  asked  his  father  to  "  let 
him  stay  out  of  school  a  little  tvhile,  as  he  could 
not  be  good  there." 

The  expression  of  countenance,  indicating 
the  struggle  within,  the  tone  of  voice,  the 
manner  of  that  touching,  child-like  request, 
seem  still  present  to  the  mind  of  the  writer. 

As  time  passed  on,  he  had  frequent  seasons 
of  deep  anxiety  about  himself.  At  the  age 
of  seventeen,  at  which  time,  as  has  been  seen, 
the  failure  of  his  health  prevented  his  enter- 


RELIGIOUS   TRAINING.  Yl 


ing  college,  he  was  in  a  state  of  alarming  des- 
pondency, threatening  at  times,  his  intellect. 
For  months  previous  to  his  going  on  to  a  farm 
in  the  country,  he  suffered  more  than  words 
can  express,  from  a  fear  of  having  committed 
the  unpardonable  sin ;  at  this  time,  it  was  com- 
mon for  him  to  resist  sleep,  lest  he  should 
wake  in  the  world  of  despair.  He  would 
often  say  to  his  mother,  he  was  "a  poor  worth- 
less being,  only  an  incumbrance  in  the  world, 
and  the  sooner  he  was  out  of  it  the  better." 

All  the  promises  of  the  Gospel  were  pow- 
erless then.  They  failed  to  throw  one  ray  of 
light  athwart  hs  clouded  vision.  It  was  use- 
less also  to  point  to  the  state  of  his  health,  as 
one  cause  of  the  state  of  his  mind.  The  only 
thing  that  kept  him  from  absolute  despair, 
was,  the  confident  faith  of  his  mother,  that  God 
had  a  work  for  her  son  to  do  in  the  world,  and 
that,  by  this  discipline,  he  was  qualifiying  him 
for  the  performance  of  it. 

This  belief  of  hers  she  labored  to  impress 
upon  his  mind,  by  every  means  in  her  power, 


72  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


and  it  so  far  availed  as  to  awaken  in  him  a 
hope  that  it  might  prove  true.  The  following 
lines  vividly  describe  his  state  at  this  time  : 

"  I  see,  or  think  I  see, 

A  glimmering  from  afar, 
A  beam  of  day  that  shines  for  me, 
To  save  me  from  despair." 

After  his  summer  on  a  farm,  and  his  winter 
at  Easthampton,  his  health  was  much  improved, 
and  his  mind  in  a  much  better  state. 

He  had  lost  none  of  his  interest  in  the 
subject  of  religion,  but  he  looked  at  it  in 
a  calmer  and  more  hopeful  manner.  He  could 
now  contemplate  his  personal  interest  in  it 
without  that  desponding  feeling,  which  had, 
hitherto,  prevented  a  successful  prosecution  of 
the  subject  whenever  it  had  pressed  with  more 
than  usual  weight  on  his  mind. 

As  the  time  drew  nigh  for  him  to  enter 
college,  he  quickened  his  efforts  to  become  a 
Christian,  yet  he  entered  with  the  conviction 


RELIGIOUS  TRAINING. 


73 


that  he  was  not  at  that  time  "  all  right "  in  re- 
gard to  that  important  matter. 

When  in  college,  he  found  that  there  were 
temptations  to  encounter,  of  which  he  had  form- 
ed only  the  faintest  conception.  This  put  him 
upon  looking  up  for  strength  to  resist,  and 
overcome  them.  It  had  been  his  habit  from 
childhood,  to  resort  to  prayer,  in  any  case  of 
trial.  It  is  believed  that  he  never  retired  at 
night  without  committing  himself  to  God  in 
prayer.  While  at  Easthampton,  haviug  taken 
up  a  higher,  and  of  course  more  difficult 
branch  of  mathematics,  after  having  detailed 
some  of  his  difficulties  to  his  mother,  he  con- 
tinues, "I  pray  over  my  studies,  and  I  don't 
see  that  they  come  any  easier  to  me."  But  to 
resume  the  subject  of  his  interest  in  religion. 

On  his  return  home  during  the  winter  vaca- 
tion, January,  1848,  there  was  a  marked  change 
in  his  views  and  feelings  in  regard  to  the  sub- 
ject of  religion.  He  was  more  hopeful,  and 
could  converse  with  calmness  on  his  own  inter- 
est in  the  matter.    It  was  evident  that  the 


74 


ERSKIXE   J.  HAWES. 


one  subject  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  and  to 
which  all  the  energies  of  his  mind  were 
directed,  was  the  securing  an  interest  in  Christ, 
and  the  blessings  of  his  salvation. 

On  his  return  to  college  at  the  close  of  the 
vacation,  he  soon  communicated  to  his  parents 
the  grateful  intelligence  that  he  "had  the 
pleasing  assurance  of  having  made  his  peace 
with  God,"  and  that  he  "  had  at  last  found 
rest  in  the  bosom  of  his  Saviour," 

He  spoke  of  his  "previous  indecision,"  of 
"  the  wavering  state  of  his  mind,"  of  having 
"been  balancing  the  question,  whether  to 
give  himself  entirely  up  to  God  or  not,"  He 
continues,  "  On  Sunday  evening  last,  when  re- 
turning from  chapel,  I  made  the  firm  resolve 
to  give  myself  thenceforth  and  forever  to  God^ 
and  I  went  to  my  room  feeling  very  happy, 
and  endeavored  to  strengthen,  by  as  fervent  a 
prayer  as  possible,  the  resolution  I  had  just 
made,"  *  *  *  In  this  letter,  he  speaks  of 
"a  sermon  on  the  Judgment,  by  President 
Wheeler,"   which  he  had  heard  some  time 


PROFESSION    OF   RELIGION.  Y5 


previous;  in  which,  the  final  judgment 
was  held  forth  in  such  a  light,  as  to  make  a 
deep  impression  on  his  mind,  that  ever  since 
that  time  he  had  been  thinking  more  and  more 
seriously  on  the  subject.  He  says,  "Perhaps 
it  would  be  well  for  me  to  remark  here,  that 
all  the  time  I  have  been  in  New  Haven,  I 
have  had  my  thoughts  turned  more  to  the  sub- 
ject of  religion  than  before,  and  there  seems 
to  have  been  an  influence  here,  which  I  have 
never  before  felt."    *    *    *  * 

One  who  had  known  Erskine  from  child- 
hood, had  spent  some  years  in  his  father's 
family,  had  partly  fitted  for  college  there,  and 
who  is  now  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  in  a 
letter  to  the  mother  of  Erskine,  says : 

"On  the  day  that  your  beloved  daughter, 
Mrs.  Van  Lennep,  left  Hartford,  I  said  to  her, 
'  Oh,  I  wish  Erskine  was  a  Christian,  it  would 
be  such  a  comfort  to  you  now.'  '  Charles,'  she 
replied,  '  I  know  he  will  be  converted.  I  have 
prayed  to  God  for  him,  and  I  am  perfectly 
sure  that  Erskine  will  become  a  Christian.' 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


"  I  often  thought  of  those  words,  and  longed 
for  the  event,  for  they  inspirited  me  with  the 
result.  When  Erskine  came  to  Yale,  I  was 
rejoiced'  to  see  that  he  had  full  confidence  in 
me  as  a  friend,  and  came  to  me  for  help  and 
counsel.  At  a  proper  time  I  spoke  to  him  of 
personal  religion,  to  which  he  listened  with 
earnest  attention,  said  he  thought  much  on  the 
subject,  and  knew  he  ought  to  be  a  Christian. 

"  One  Sabbath  afternoon,  the  last  in  January, 
1848,  as  I  sat  in  my  room  lost  in  reflection, 
arising  from  the  sermon  I  had  just  heard  in  the 
chapel,  a  gentle  knock  aroused  me  from  my 
reverie.  Erskine  entered,  and  in  a  moment 
I  saw  by  the  look  of  anxiety  on  his  face  that 
he  was  in  great  trouble.  I  said, '  Well,  Erskine, 
how  is  it  about  your  soul?'  He  burst  into 
tears  and  said,  '  Oh,  Charles,  I  am  such  a 
great  sinner  against  God  !  What  shall  I  do  V 
I  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  we  sat  down.  He 
poured  out  the  deep  and  pent  up  feelings  of 
his  heart ;  spoke  of  all  his  privileges,  so  many 
and  great — of  his  dear  sister — how  earnestly 


PROFESSION    OF  RELIGION. 


she  had  desired  his  salvation.  This  feeling 
was  the  one  uppermost.  '  Oh,  I  have  been 
such  a  great  sinner  against  God,  I  wonder  that 
I  am  .alive  !'  We  knelt  and  prayed.  He  ut- 
tered a  few  broken  petitions,  but  a  sense  of  his 
deep  and  dreadful  guilt  seemed  to  overwhelm 
him,  and  all  that  I  could  say  or  do  seemed 
only  to  enhance  a  sense  of  this.  That  evje- 
ning,  at  his  request,  I  wrote  to  his  father,  stat- 
ing his  case.  He  could  not  study,  and  his 
tutor  gave  him  his  option,  as  to  attending 
recitations.  Nothing  diverted  his  attention 
or  had  any  power  to  interj3st  him.  I  never 
saw  a  more  clear  case  of  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  giving  deep  conviction  of  sin, 
and  of  the  need  of  an  all-sufficient  Saviour. 

"  At  the  close  of  the  week  I  met  him,  and 
saw  that  the  deep,  settled  anxiety  he  had 
worn,  had  given  place  to  a  cheerful,  tender 
joy  and  peace.  I  asked  him,  '  Have  you  found 
the  Saviour?'  His  answer  was,  'I  believe 
I  have.' 

"There  was  no  ecstasy,  no  undue  excitement, 


78 


ERSKINE  J. 


H  A  W  E  S  , 


but  a  solemn  and  even  cheerful  determination 
to  give  up  all,  and,  as  a  lost  sinner,  to  trust  in 
the  promise  of  Christ. 

"  And  so  he  went  on.  We  often  talked  and 
prayed  together,  and  it  was  a  joy  and  comfort 
greater  than  I  can  express  to  see  the  confident 
faith  of  that  sainted  sister  realized. 

^"My  memory  is  stored  with  many  other 
things,  of  great  interest  to  me.  As  you  know, 
we  made  a  tour  to  Williamstown,  Pittsfield, 
and  other  places,  in  September,  1849,  and  he 
revelled  on  the  fine  scenery  during  the  journey, 
and.  both  of  us  enjoyed  it  exceedingly.  Every 
night  and  morning  we  began  and  ended  the 
day  with  prayer."  *    *  * 

On  the  first  Sabbath  in  July,  1848,  he  uni- 
ted with  his  father's  church  in  Hartford. 
During  the  solemn  transaction,  something  oc- 
curred, which  in  other  circumstances  would 
have  annoyed  him  greatly.  His  mother  ex- 
pressed her  regret  for  this.  His  reply  was, 
"  1  did  not  notice  it,  I  was  alone  with  God, 
entering  into  solemn  covenant  with  him." 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 


79 


His  college  life  must  be  passed  over  briefly, 
the  monotony  of  which  was  interrupted  by 
very  few  incidents. 

His  summer  vacations  were  spent,  either 
at  the  sea  side,  or  among  the  mountains  in 
Berkshire.  Here,  with  a  few  choice  friends, 
he  luxuriated,  amid  the  exuberance  of  na- 
ture's wildest  and  grandest  scenery ;  and 
here  he  gained  strength  and  vigor  of  mind 
and  body,  for  the  succeeding  college  campaign. 
His  winter  vacations  were  spent  at  home. 

While  in  college,  he  entered  the  Sabbath 
school  as  a  teacher,  and  performed  with  inter- 
est and  fidelity  his  duties,  as  such. 

He  also  indulged  in  his  favorite  musical  en- 
tei'tainments,  by  joining  the  Beethoven  society, 
and  in  rendering  important  assistance  in  the 
college  choir. 

Some  of  his  experience  in  the  course  he 
took  in  regard  to  the  various  college  societies 
may  not  be  deemed  out  of  place  here. 

Of  two  of  the  more  important  of  these,  he 
was  a  member,  the  Brothers  and  the  Phi 


80  ERSKINB    J.  HAWES. 

Beta;  but  lie  never  joined  a  secret  society. 
His  objections  to  these  were  :  1st.  They  were 
seci'et.  Everything  worth  having,  would  bear 
to  be  known.  2d.  They  were  not  approved 
by  his  parents  and  judicious  friends.  3d.  The 
officers  of  college  were  not  in  favor  of  them. 
Then  there  were  certain  things  connected  with 
them,  unfavorable  to  study ;  such  as  late  hours, 
suppers,  to  say  nothing  of  expenses  which  the 
wealthy  could  meet,  but  which  must  be  shared 
equally  by  all,  and  for  which  he  felt  he  had 
no  right  to  draw  upon  the  resources  of  his 
father. 

In  conversing  on  the  subject  after  leaving 
college,  he  expressed  the  opinion  that  he 
should  doubtless  have  stood  better  with  his 
classmates,  if  he  had  joined  them,  but  that 
his  conscience  did  not  accuse  him  of  having 
done  wrong  in  the  matter. 

In  1851,  he  graduated  with  no  disci-edit  to 
himself  or  his  college. 

It  was  now  an  important  question,  not  only 
to  himself  but  to  his  parents,  how  he  should 


A    TEAR    IN  TEACHING. 


81 


put  to  the  right  use,  qualifications  on  .which  so 
much  labor  and  expense  had  been  bestowed. 

During  a  period  of  religious  interest  in  col- 
lege, he  had  unhesitatingly  chosen  the  ministry 
as  his  profession.  With  this  ultimately  in  view, 
he  decided  on  spending  a  year  in  teaching. 

In  the  autumn  of  1851,  he  entered  the  high 
school  in  his  native  city,  then  under  the  super- 
intendence of  Mr.  T.  Curtis,  and  remained  in- 
connection  with  it  as  assistant  teacher,  for  one 
year.  This  was  a  very  profitable  year  to  him. 
Aside  from  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from 
his  connection  with  the  school,  he  had  the 
companionship  of  Mr.  W.  B.  Capron,  then 
principal  of  the  classical  department,  now 
missionary  of  the  American  Board  in  Madura ; 
also  a  large  circle  of  intelligent  Christian 
friends  in  the  city.  In  addition  to  this,  his 
home  privileges  were  not  small. 

During  this  year,  there  was  a  season  of 

much  religious  interest  in  the  city.    At  its 

close  it  was  apparent  to  all,  that  he  had  been 

set  forward  in  his  Christian  course. 
5 


CHAPTER  Y. 


THEOLOGICAL   STUDIES  CONFLICT  LICENSE  

GRADUATES    AT    ANDOVER  ENTERS     ON  A 

FOURTH  TEAR  AT  NEW  HAVEN. 

In  the  autumn  of  1852,  lie  entered  the 
Theological  Seminary  at  Audover.  Before 
entei'ing,  he  had  been  greatly  tried  in  his  mind 
as  to  his  qualifications  for  the  ministry.  As 
months  rolled  away,  his  anxiety  and  perplex- 
ity on  the  subject  increased  to  such  a  degree 
as  almost  to  disqualify  him  for  profitable 
study ;  and  he  came  at  length  to  doubt, 
whether  he  was  in  reality  a  Christian. .  Twice 
during  his  second  year,  he  came  home  with  the 
intention  of  laying  open  his  case  to  his  father ; 
but  he  was  prostrated  by  severe  illness,  and  he 
could  not  add  to  his  trouble.  They  were 
indeed  deep  waters,  through  which  he  was  then 
passing.  It  was  evident  to  those  who  best 
knew  him,  that  somethiug  was  weighing  heavily 


84 


ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 


on  his  spirit.  He  was  not  buoyant  and  cheerful 
as  formerly  ;  but  it  was  only  to  his  mother 
that  his  feelings  were  disclosed.  These  were 
months  of  trial,  to  both  mother  and  son.  It 
was  her  prevailing  hope  that  God  was  thus 
leading  him  as  it  were  through  the  fires,  that 
lie  might  purify  him  from  the  dross  of  selfish- 
ness, pride,  and  ambition,  and  that  he  would 
one  day  bring  him  forth,  a  workman  meet  for 
the  master's  service.  His  health  suffered  ;  an 
impenetrable  cloud  rested  on  the  pathway 
before  him.  He  could  not  go  forward-  in  his 
preparation  for  the  ministry.  At  length  as  the 
vacation  at  the  end  of  the  year  drew  near  its 
close,  and  he  must  return  to  Andover  if  he 
returned  at  all,  and  enter  upon  his  third  year, 
he  made  a  full  disclosure  to  his  father.  This 
was,  as  he  supposed  it  must  be,  an  unexpected 
and  severe  trial  to  him.  His  father  could  not 
advise  him  to  go  forward  and  enter  the  minis- 
try in  the  state  of  feeling  in  which  he  then 
was ;  but  thought  he  should  return  to  Ando- 
vei',  and  continue  his  studies,  and  wait  the  in- 


THEOLOGICAL   STUDIES.  85 


dications  of  Providence  in  this  matter.  In  the 
meantime,  lie  advised  liim  to  see  Professor 
Barrows,  and  lay  open  his  case  to  him.  Pro- 
fessor Barrows  has  kindly  furnished  the  writer 
with  an  account  of  what  he  styles,  "  that  men- 
tal conflict  which  constituted  the  crisis  of  his 
life  after  he  began  his  theological  studies  :" 

"My  first  acquaintance  with  the  late  Rev. 
Erskine  J.  Hawes,  was  in  Andover  Theolo- 
gical Seminary,  where  I  knew  him  as  a  modest, 
pure  minded,  earnest,  and  studious  young  man, 
who  gave  good  promise  of  future  usefulness  in 
the  gospel  ministry.  As  he  advanced  in  the 
theological  course,  a  tinge  of  despondency  be- 
gan to  manifest  itself  in  his  conversation  and 
general  demeanor.  I  witnessed  this  with  some 
uneasiness,  fearing  that  he  might  settle  down 
into  an  unhealthy  tone  of  feeling,  which  would 
weaken  his  interest  in  his  studies,  and  impair 
the  thoroughness  of  his  preparation  for  the 
ministerial  work.  A  letter  received  about 
this  time  from  his  father  who  had  not  failed 
to  notice  the   depression  of  his   spirits  in 


86  ERSKINEJ.HAWES. 

view  of  the  ministerial  office  for  which 
he  was  preparing  himself,  increased  my  so- 
licitude in  his  behalf  As  I  was  inquiring 
with  myself  how  I  might  approach  him  on  the 
subject  without  repelling  him  by  apparent  ob- 
trusiveness,  he  relieved  me  of  my  embarrass- 
ment by  seeking  an  interview  with  me. 

"  He  began  by  saying,  as  nearly  as  I  can  re- 
member his  words:  'I  have  about  made  up 
my  mind  to  renounce  the  woi'k  of  preparation 
for  the  ministry.  I  do  not  think  that  I  have 
the  qualifications  necessary  to  make  me  an 
efficient  preacher  of  the  Gospel ;  and  the  idea 
of  being  a  poor  preacher,  an  incumbrance  to 
the  sacred  offic.e,  is  what  I  cannot  bear.'  My 
first  effort  was  to  induce  him  to  suspend  his 
decision,  and  this  point  I  argued  very  ear- 
nestly with  him,  urging  him  to  do  nothing 
rashly,  and  endeavoring  to  show  him  that,  even 
should  he  not  enter  the  ministry,  the  course 
of  theological  training  to  which  he  was  sub- 
jecting himself  would  abundantly  repay  the 
labor  bestowed  upon  it.    But  he  continued  to 


THE  CONFLICT. 


87 


repeat,  in  various  forms,  the  difficulty  witli  which 
he  had  opened  the  interview.  In  doing  so  he 
was  very  modest  and  respectful,  for  it  did  not 
belong  to  either  his  nature  or  his  education  to 
be  otherwise ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  was 
very  earnest  and  persevering.  '  You  would 
not  advise,'  he  said,  '  that  all  should  be  min- 
sisters  of  the  Gospel.  One  man  can  do  most 
good  in  the  ministry  because  he  has  the  re- 
quisite qualificatiouB  for  it.  Another  can  do 
more  good  in  some  other  calling.  To  urge 
him  forward  would  be  no  favor  to  him  or 
to  the  churches.'  That  there  are  men  in 
the  s'acred  office  who  are  an  incumbrance  to 
it,  and  who  would  relieve  the  churches  by 
demitting  it,  s.eemed  to  rest  heavily  on  his 
spirits,  and  he  more  than  once  adverted  to  the 
fact,  repeating  the  declaration :  •  I  do  not 
wish  to  be  such  a  minister.'  Of  course  I  could 
not  deny  the  premises  from  which  he  argued. 
I  frankly  admitted  the  facts ;  and  added,  if  I 
rightly  recollect,  that  I  believed  in  both  the 
good  judgment  and  candor  of  his  friends,  who 


88  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

had  advised  liiin  to  seek  the  sacred  office,  be- 
cause they  judged  that  he  had  the  requisite 
qualifications  for  it.  Yet  it  did  not  seem  to 
me  that  I  succeeded  in  making  much  impres- 
sion upon  his  mind. 

"  At  this  distance  of  time  I  am  not  able  to  say 
whether  it  was  at  a  later  stage  of  the  inter- 
view just  related,  or  during  another  and  sub- 
sequent interview,  that  I  turned  the  discussion 
into  a  different  channel,  and  as  I  had  reason  to 
believe,  with  much  better  success.  With  re- 
gard to  his  objection  of  wanting  the  proper 
qualifications  for  a  gospel  minister,  I  told  him 
that  if  he  meant  qualifications  to  occupy  a 
high  station  in  the  church,  as  the  world 
counts  highness,  the  sooner  he  laid  aside  that 
idea,  the  better;  since  the  young  man  who 
seeks  the  sacred  office  with  such  a  thought  be- 
fore his  mind  is  sure  to  be  corrupted  by  the 
bad  leaven  of  worldly  ambition.  I  dwelt  at 
some  length  on  the  fact  that  it  is  only  a  few 
of  Christ's  servants  on  whom  he  bestows  the 
good  gift  of  commanding  eloquence  and  in- 


THE  CONFLICT. 


89 


fluence;  that  the  idea  that  only  such  men 
should  be  preachers  of  the  Gospel  is  simply- 
absurd  ;  that  the  true  "question  to  be  settled 
by  a  young  man  and  his  friends,  should  be 
whether  there  is  reasonable  ground  for  be- 
lieving that  he  can  serve  Christ  acceptably  in 
the  ministry  in  some  position,  though  it  be  not 
among  those  which  the  world  calls  high :  that 
he  who  has  a  right  view  of  the  ministerial 
office  will  seek  it  purely  from  its  spiritual 
attractions,  because  he  loves  and  covets  the 
work  itself  of  guiding  sinners  to  Christ,  and 
building  up  Christ's  disciples  in  the  faith  ;  and 
that  such  a  spirit  will  prepare  him  to  labor 
cheerfully  and  contentedly  in  any  post  to 
which  the  providence  of  God  may  call  him, 
though  it  be  among  those  that  the  world  calls 
obscure,  where  often  the  most  real  good  is  ac- 
complished ;  that,  if  the  master  should  have 
need  for  him  in  a  station  of  commanding  in- 
fluence, he  will  signify  it  at  the  proper  time ; 
if  not,  no  harm  is  done.    I  told  him  further 

that  I  was  not  sorry  to  witness  in  him  this 
5* 


90  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

mental  conflict,  for  I  believed  that  by  it  the 
Spirit  of  God  was  preparing  him  to  be  a 
preacher  of  the  Gospel  in  deed  and  in  truth ; 
that  it  is  God's  way  to  put  those  whom  he  is 
preparing  for  true  usefulness  into  the  fire, 
either  before  their  entrance  upon  the  sacred 
office,-  or  afterwards ;  that  thus  their  self-reli- 
ance and  worldly  views  may  be  burnt  out  of 
them,  and  they  may  learn  to  lean  implicitly 
upon  his  grace,  and  seek  simply  his  glory. 

"  To  this  presentation  of  the  sj3iritual  side  of 
the  ministerial  office  he  listened  with  earnest 
silence,  without  making,  so  far  as  I  can  now  re- 
member, any  reply,  except  to  thank  me  for 
the  interest  I  had  manifested  in  his  case. 
How  much  impression  it  made'upon  him,  I  can- 
not say.  I  thought  at  the  time,  that,  along 
with  the  influences  that  were  operating  upon 
him  from  other  sources,  the  Spirit  of  God  was 
pleased  to  make  some  use  of  it  to  guide  him 
to  a  right  decision  of  the  momentous  question 
before  him.  However  this  may  hav^e  been,  he 
came  to  me  a  few  days  afterwards,  with  a  coun- 


THE  CONFLICT. 


91 


tenance  illuminated  by  the  holy  composure 
that  had  taken  possession  of  his  soul,  and  said : 
'  Well,  I  have  determined  to  go  on,  and  do 
the  best  I  can.'  From  that  time,  I  never  wit- 
nessed any  wavering  in  his  purpose.  This 
decision,  made,  as  I  fully  believe,  under  the 
influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  seemed  to  im- 
part new  life  and  energy  to  him,  intellectually 
as  well  as  morally.  His  friends  noticed  with 
pleasure  the  new  interest  with  which  he 
viewed  the  whole  field  of  theological  inquiry. 
He  looked  upon  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel 
from  the  spii'itual  side,  and  entered  upon  the 
investigation  of  them,  not  only  as  a  matter 
of  intellectual  pastime,  but  as  one  who  be- 
lieved them  to  be  '  the  panoply  of  God,' 
wherewith  he  arms  his  ministers,  that  they 
may  wage  a  successful  war  against  the  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  devil — a  panoply  which  he 
Loped  to  be  permjtted  soon  to  put  on,  that 
in  it  he  might  himself  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith. 

*'  After  he  left  the  seminary  I  followed  his 


92  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES'. 

movements  -vvitli  deep  interest,  and  learned 
with  great  pleasure  of  Lis  settlement  among  a 
united  people,  who  loved  him,  and  whom  he 
loved  in  return  ;  among  whom  he  devoted  him- 
self, so  earnestly  and  successfully,  to  the  great 
work  of  preaching  Christ  crucified.  To  human 
view,  he  had  the  prospect  of  a  long  and  faithful 
ministry.  But  it  was  God's  purpose  that  it 
should  be — how  brief!  When  the  news  that  it 
had  in  very  deed  closed  forever,  first  reached 
us  here,  it  was  so  astounding  that  we  could 
hardly  believe  it.  But  we  remembered  that 
God  has  done  the  same  thing  before,  in  a 
much  higher  sphere  than  any  of  us  are  per- 
mitted to  ,  occupy.  How  full  of  wonderful 
meaning  is  that  simple  sentence  of  holy  writ : 
'  And  he  killed  James,  the  brother  of  John, 
with  the  sword.'  James  had  been  three 
years  under  our  Lord's  personal  training.  He 
was  one  of  the  three  favpred  apostles  whom 
he  admitted  to  peculiar  intimacy  with  himself ; 
who  alone  were  permitted  to  witness  the 
raising  of  Jairus's  daughter,  the  transfigura- 


LICENSED. 


93 


tion,  and  the  agony  in  Gethsemane.  Yet, 
after  a  ministry  of  only  a  few  years,  he  who 
had  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth,  suffered 
James  to  perish  by  the  sword  of  Herod.  He 
did  not  esteem  his  ministry  too  brief  for  all  the 
divine  culture  which  he  had  himself  bestowed 
upon  him,  much  less  should  we  have  any  such 
reasonings  in  respect  to  the  human  culture 
bestowed  upon  our  departed  fj-iond.  In 
carrying  forward  his  cause,  our  heavenly 
Master  is  never  straitened  for  resources.  He 
cares  not  so  much  for  the  quantity  of  our  labor 
as  its  quality.  He  wants  the  whole  heart,  and 
then  he  will  accept  it,  and  order  by  his  own 
unerring  wisdom  the  limits  of  our  earthly 
service. 

E.  Bareows. 

Andover  Theol.  Sem.,  Nov.  30,  1860. 

After  these  interviews  with  Dr.  Barrows,  he 
proceeded  with  more  comfort  to  himself,  and 
also  more  successfully  in  his  preparation  for 
the  work  of  the  ministry. 

He  was  examined  and  licensed,  Jan.  16th, 


94 


ERSKINE   J.    HA  WES. 


1855,  by  the  Fourth  Association  of  Hartford 
County,  assembled  in  his  father's  study. 

He  graduated  at  the  Theological  Seminary, 
Andover,  August,  1855  ;  and  entered  upon  a 
fourth  year  at  New  Haven,  in  the  month  of 
October  following. 

This  was  a  broken  year,  much  of  it  was  de- 
voted to  the  improvement  of  his  health.  But 
although  unable  to  study  much,  he  yet  per- 
formed a  good  degree  of  pulpit  service,  both 
in  his  own  and  a  neighboring  state.  During 
this  year,  he  had  some  favorable  opportunities 
for  settlement ;  but  his  estimate  of  the  sacred 
office,  the  high  standard  he  had  set  for  himself 
as  a  suitable  qualification  for  the  wort  of  the 
ministry,  made  him  shrink  back  for  a  time, 
from  taking  upon  himself  its  responsibilities 
and  duties.  The  state  of  his  health  also  had 
some  weight  in  the  matter. 


CHAPTER  VL 


CALL   TO    GREENFIELD  PREACHES   AT  FAL- 
MOUTH WESTERN  TOUR. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1856,  he  was  invited 
to  preach  at  Greenfield,  Mass.  He  accepted 
the  invitation,  and  was  there  three  Sabbaths. 
The  result  of  his  preaching  there  has  been 
kindly  furnished  by  one  of  the  prominent 
members  of  the  church,  the  Honorable  Judge 
Grinnell. 

In  a  letter  of  sympathy  to  the'  bereaved 
parents,  he  writes : 

"  My  acquaintance  with  your  son,  brief  as  it 
was,  was  tenderly  interesting,  and  at  one  time 
I  hoped  it  would  be  lasting.  *  *  *  His 
preaching,  his  social.  Christian  and  ministerial 
deportment,  won  the  love  and  respect  of  our 
people.  His  sermons  were  faithful  and  earn- 
est exhibitions  of  Christian  truth  and  duty.  I 
well  remember  the  impressions,  made  upon  me 


96 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


and  others  by  this  lovely  young  teacher.  A 
general  and  strong  desire  was  felt  to  extend  to 
him  an  invitation  to  settle  with  us  in  the  min- 
istry; and  a  vote  was  given  with  great  una- 
nimity by  both  the  church  and  society  in  favor 
of  such  invitation.  An  annual  salary  of  $1,000 
was  offered, — a  greater  sum  than  the  society 
had  ever  before  paid  their  minister. 

"  Mr.  Hawes  took  the  matter  of  this  call  into 
deliberate  consideration,  as  a  man  of  honorable 
and  conscientious  character  would  surely  do. 
He  declined  a  settlement,  assigning,  as  one 
reason,  a  doubt  whether  the  then  state  of  his 
health  would  admit  of  his  assuming  the  labors 
and  responsibilities  of  the  pastorate  over  this 
church  and  people. 

"The  decision  could  not  but  be  painful 
to  us." 

The  decision  of  this  question  cost  the  youth- 
ful candidate  much  serious  and  anxious  inquiry, 
and  many  sleepless  nights  were  passed  before 
he  could  come  to  any  satisfactory  result  as  to 
his  duty,  either  in  declining  or  accepting  the 


CALL    TO  GREENFIELD. 


97 


call.  The  unanimity  of  the  call  seemed  clearly 
to  point  to  the  duty  of  his  acceptance.  The 
conditions  appended,  and  the  compensation, 
were  every  way  satisfactory — the  plac%  to  him 
had  attractions  as  a  residence — the  society  was 
refined  and  intelligent,  and  he  already  felt  a 
very  tender  friendship  for  several  of  the  elder 
and  influential  members  of  the  church. 

The  people  had  given  him  evidence  of  their 
satisfaction  with  his  preaching,  and  in  respect 
to  this  part  of  his  labors  he  had  reason  to  hope 
that  he  should  not  disappoint  them.  But, 
would  his  health  endure  the  pressure  that  must 
be  brought  to  bear  upon  it,  in  the  efforts  ne- 
cessary to  maintain  the  general  interests  of  the 
church  and  congregation?  Of  these  he  had 
taken  no  superficial  view,  and  this  turned  the 
balance  on  the  negative  side. 

His  answer,  declining  an  acceptance  of  the 
call,  bears  date  June  15th,  1856.  In  reviewing 
his  decision  afterwards,  he  felt  that  he  had 
acted  wisely,  as  he  had  conscientiously ;  his 
health  would  not  have  endured  the  trial. 


98 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


During  tlie  summer  and  autumn  following, 
he  was  constantly  engaged  in  supplying  vacant 
pulpits,  except  during  a  few  weeks,  when  he 
was  confned  at  home  by  severe  illness. 

In  December,  1856,  he  was  induced  to  take 
charge  of  the  congregation  of  the  Kev.  Dr. 
Hooker,  of  Falmouth,  who  was  obliged  to  take 
his  wife  abroad  on  account  of  ill-health. 

In  regard  to  the  labors  of  the  pastor  whose 
church  he  had  taken  in  charge  for  a  few 
months,  he  writes:  "I  find  that  Dr.  Hooker 
has  been  in  the  habit  of  conducting  most  of 
his  meetings  himself,  walking  to  the  different 
districts  where  the  meetings  were  to  be  held, 
and  back  again,  as  a  general  thing.  There  are 
three  districts  which  he  visits  in  this  way.  He 
told  me  that  he  had  not  failed  of  an  appoint- 
ment once  on  account  of  ill-health  during  the 
twenty  past  years  of  his  ministry, — out,  rain  or 
shine,  walking  two  or  three  miles  to  lecture, 
and  back  in  the  evening."  "I shall  be  obliged 
to  work  exceedingly  hard  to  tread  in  his  foot- 
steps." 


PREACHES   AT   FALMOUTH.  99 

Of  his  first  Sabbath,  he  writes :  "  I  preached 
yesterday  to  a  very  attentive  and  respectable 
audience,  and  took  charge  in  the  evening  of  the 
Sunday-school  concert.  I  believe  it  was  the  first 
time  I  ever  attempted  to  address  children; 
and  though  I  think  what  I  said  could  not  be 
very  interesting  or  edifying  to  grown-up  per- 
sons, and  was  not  free  from  blunders  and  in- 
elegancies,  still  I  seemed  to  have  the  attention 
of  the  young,  and  hope  that  they  were  both 
interested  and  profited." 

On  entering  upon  his  pulpit  labors  in  Fal- 
mouth,  he  kept  the  principle  which  he  had 
adopted  when  first  he  commenced  making  ser- 
mons, steadily  in  view,  viz.,  the  profit  of  the 
hearers.  To  qualify  himself  the  better  for 
this,  he  commenced  a  systematic  course  of 
Scripture  reading.  He  writes:  "I  am  studying 
Romans  in  course,  with  such  helps  as  I  can 
command  in  an  old  Greek  Testament  and 
Lexicon,  but  with  the  serviceable  aid,  however, 
of  Stewart,  Barnes  and  Chalmers.  I  can  never 
I'ead  the  latter  without  being  profited  highly, 


100  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


in  ha\nng  my  own  mind  quickened,  and  made 
bolder  and  prepared  to  encounter  difficulties. 
Besides  this,  he  is  eminently  suggestive.  The 
more  I  study,  the  more  I  am  ashamed  of  my 
ignorance  of  the  Scriptures.  In  writing  my 
sermons,  I  find  myself  often  obliged  to  stop 
and  go  to  investigating  more  closely." 

Again  he  writes :  "  Since  I  have  commenced 
lecturing,  in  connection  with  my  other  duties, 
I  have  been  obliged  to  lay  aside  my  exegetical 
study  and  doctrinal  reading,  except  so  far  as  is 
connected  with  my  preparation  for  the  pulpit 
and  lecture-room.  I  must  return  to  these  again. 
I  have  been  spending  upon  my  own  resources 
too  much, — have  been  giving  myself  too  ex- 
clusively to  the  preparation  for  the  pulpit  and 
too  little  to  the  study  of,  and  the  storing  my 
mind  with,  such  truths  as  shall  refresh  and 
quicken  the  sensibilities,  and  keep  me  lively 
and  earnest  in  the  great  matters  of  religion." 

From  the  commencement  of  his  labors  in 
Falmouth,  he  had  a  very  ardent  desire  to  see  a 
revival  of  religion  among  the  people.    He  was 


PREACHES    AT    FALMOUTH.  101 


strengthened  in  his  eiforts  for  this  by  a  similar 
desire  on  the  part  of  the  absent  pastor. 

He  writes :  "  I  am  encouraged  by  his  prayers 
and  good  wishes  that  my  labors  may  be  blessed 
in  his  absence  ; — and  I  find,  also,  this  to  be  the 
general  desire  and  hope.   May  it  be  realized  ! " 

"I  often  find  myself  casting  my  thoughts 
forward,  and  wondering  how,  with  my  limited 
experience,  I  should  succeed  in  conducting  a 
revival  if  the  Lord  should  see  fit  to  bless  my 
labors.  *  *  *  My  sermons  I  have  made  as 
direct  as  possible,  and  as  close  to  the  con- 
science ;  but  the  residue  of  the  spirit  is  with  the 
Lord.  Now  and  then,  I  hear  of  one  and  ano- 
ther, made  serious  by  this  or  that  discourse ; 
but  there  has  been  so  much  interruption  to  the 
meetings  this  winter,  and  there  is  so  much  to 
divert  the  attention  as  the  spring  comes  on, 
that  my  faith  is  somewhat  shaken.  Much  of  the 
interruption  to  the  meetings  during  the  winter 
was  owing  to  the  weather."  He  writes :  "  The 
oldest  inhabitants  do  not  remember  such  a  win- 
ter for  severity.    The  snow  was,  at  one  time, 


102 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


banked  up  in  places  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  the 
roads  impassable,  and  for  a  week  there  was  no 
mail."  Again,  in  February,  he  writes:  "A" 
multitude  of  unpleasant  Sabbaths.  They  tell 
me  I  have  not  yet  seen  my  entire  congregation 
together.  The  weather  is  now  milder;  the 
snow  is  disappearing  again  as  fast  as  it  came ; 
it  melts  away  like  magic  under  the  mild,  soft 
breezes  from  the  sea." 

The  diversion  of  which  he  spoke  as  the 
spring  approached,  was  from  another  and  a 
more  absorbing  object.  The  people  were 
about  remodeling  their  old  church. 

March  4th,  he  writes :  "  The  first  of  April  we 
leate  the  old  church.  I  am  preparing  a  sermon 
for  the  occasion  ;  shall  take  for  my  text :  '  If  I 
forget  thee,  O  Jerusalem,'  etc.,  confining  my 
remarks,  not  so  much  to  the  propriety  of  beau- 
tifying places  of  worship  as  to  'appropriate  re- 
flections on  leaving  an  old  sanctuary.' "  The 
following  is  a  biief  abstract  of  portions  of  the 
sermon : 

"The  purpose  of  the  captive  exile,  'to  re- 


PEEACHES   AT   FALMOUTH.  103 


member,  and  not  forget  Jerusalem,'  as  he  '  wept 
by  the  rivers  of  Babylon,' "  although  uttered  in 
circumstances  so  unlike  those  of  the  worship- 
pers in  that  old  sanctuary  about  to  be  taken 
down,  yet  furnished  a  model  sufficiently  sug- 
gestive of  thoughts^  for  the  illustration  of  the 
subject. 

"Associations  that  cluster  in  memory  around 
the  place  of  one's  birth, — tender  recollections 
of  childhood  and  of  home, — the  chamber  where 
was  lisped  the  first  prayer  of  infancy, — the 
family  altar,  with  all  its  hallowed  remem- 
brances,"— Scenes,  such  as  these,  were  happily 
introduced  to  illustrate  the  more  sacred  and 
endearing  associations  that  cluster  around  an 
old  sanctuary,  the  place  of  one's  spiritual  birth. 

"The  Theophanies  in  the  ancient  Temple, 
accompanying  the  gorgeous  rites  and  imposing 
ceremonies  of  Jewish  worship,"  were  introduced, 
"  to  show  in  strong  contrast  the  superiority  of 
th-ose  manifestations  with  which  the  great 
Head  of  the  Church  now  condescends  to  bless 
his  true  worshippers,  in  his  spiritual  sanctuary. 


104 


ERSKINE  J. 


H  AWES. 


of  whicli  the  ancient  temple  worship  was  but 
the  shadow : — with  such  seasons  of  divine  mani- 
festation, the  memory  of  this  sanctuary  will  be 
associated  in  after  years."  Such  were  some 
of  the  thoughts  presented  in  the  commence- 
ment of  the  sermon — the  last  ever  preached  in 
that  old  church,  the  spiritual  birthplace  of 
many  of  its  aged,  as  also  of  its  youthful  wor- 
shippers. 

When  about  to  leave  Falmouth,  he  suffered 
much  in  thought  of  the  unfruitfulness  of  his 
ministry  there ; — lamented  that  he  must  leave 
the  people  as  he  found  them.  He  had  en- 
deavored to  preach  the  pure  Gospel,  was  not 
conscious  of  having  spared  himself  in  case  of 
any  duty  or  labor,  yet  he  saw  no  saving  results. 
This,  he  thought,  must  be  owing  to  some 
defect  in  his  ministry. 

He  says:  "All  are  very  attentive,  and  from 
some  hints  I  have  occasionally  received,  I  be- 
lieve my  preaching  is  very  well  liked ;  but  this 
is  speaking  too  favorably  of  myself.  Last  Sab- 
bath, in  the  afternoon,  I  felt  myself  dreadfully 


PREACHES   AT  FALMOUTH. 


105 


deserted.  I  was  so  ashamed  that  I  did  not 
once  look  at  the  audience." 

It  should  be  recorded  with  gratitude  here, 
that  he  was  not  always  left  thus.  After  his 
settlement  in  the  ministry,  he  said  to  a  friend : 
"  I  sometimes  go  into  my  lecture-room,  feeling 
sadly  depressed,  but  the  Lord  wonderfully  sus- 
tains me." 

It  seems  due  to  the  youthful  preacher  to 
state  a  fact  here,  touching  the  acceptableness 
of  his  ministerial  labors  in  Falmouth.  The 
people  had  some  reason  to  suppose  that  they 
should  at  no  distant  day  be  deprived  of  the 
labors  of  their  much-loved  and  respected  pas- 
tor. And  such  proved  to  be  the  fact.  Before 
formally  announcing  to  his  people  his  intention 
of  leaving  them,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hooker  commu- 
nicated with  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  as- 
suring him,  that  in  case  he  left,  the  people  of 
Falmouth  would  look  to  him  to  fill  the  vacancy. 
But  for  reasons  which  appeared  satisfactory  to 
himself,  and  also  to  his  father,  he  discouraged 

any  such  expectation  on  their  part. 
6 


106  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


Before  leaving  Falmoutla,  in  a  letter  to  his 
father,  he  says:  "There  is  one  plan  on  which 
my  mind  has  dwelt  much  of  late.  I  have  not 
mentioned  it  to  you,  except  casually :  it  is  the 
idea  of  ti-avelling.  It  seems  to  me  that  it 
is  just  the  experience  that  I  need.  I  feel  an 
irrepressible  desire  to  visit  the  East.  I  merely 
mention  the  matter  to  know  what  you  think 
of  it." 

This  desire  was  gradually  ripening  into  a 
purpose  after  his  settlement  in  the  ministry. 
The  idea  of  one  day  "standing  by  his  sister's 
grave,"  was  looked  forward  to,  as  more  than 
a  possible  event. 

But  another  and  a  speedier  meeting  had 
been  arranged  for  him,  not  on  Moslem  soil, 
sui-rounded  by  the  gloom)''  receptacles  of  the 
dead,  but,  as  there  is  every  reason  to  believe, 
amid  the  splendors  of  a  heavenly  home, — not 
to  weep  over  the  silent  dust,  from  which  could 
come  no  response  or  note  of  recognition,  but  to 
be  actually  in  the  presence  of  her,  who,  "  hav- 
ing gone  before,  was  waiting  to  welcome  him 


LETTER   TO    HIS    FATHER.  107 


to  the  joys  of  pure  and  delightful  fellowship 
in  the  courts  above."* 

Just  before  his  return  home,  his  father  wrote 
to  secure  his  services  for  one  Sabbath.  He 
wrote  in  answer,  "  I  must  say  that  I  look  forward 
with  some  trepidation  to  supplying  our  pulpit, 
for  I  am  inclined  to  regard  the  sermons  which 
I  have  prepared  as  better  adapted  to  some 
other  people  than  to  the  great  and  the  wise  of 
our  congregation.  Indeed,  I  wonder,  when  I 
think  with  how  little  fear  I  made  my  first  ap- 
pearance in  our  pulpit,  with  my  meager  modi- 
cum of  truth  with  which  to  feed  those  of  vastly 
larger  experience  than  myself  And  it  is  when 
reviewing  these  first  effoi'ts  that  I  find  my  con- 
fidence shaken  at  the  thought  of  again  appear- 
ing before  our  people.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  was 
made  growingly  sensible  of  my  imperfections. 
I  wish  some  other  arrangement  could  be  made. 

Perhaps,  H  would  like  to  exchange."  That 

exchange  was  made. 

*  Extract  from  his  sermon,  preached  on  occasion  of  leaving  the 
old  church  at  Falmouth. 


108  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES, 


Oa  the  return  of  Dr.  Hooker  to  Ms  charge 
in  Falmouth,  Erskine  returned  to  his  home  m 
Hartford,  and  began  maturing  a  plan  of  travel. 
In  consequence  of  a  letter  from  La  Crosse, 
Wisconsin,  he  decided  on  going  West,  not  that 
he  had  any  expectation  of  settling  there,  but 
the  letter  was  made  the  occasion  of  visiting 
that  part  of  the  country.  Before  leaving 
home,  among  other  places,  he  preached  'one 
Sabbath  in  Plymouth,  Ct.  This  was  the  last 
Sabbath  in  May,  1857.  His  going  there,  as  it 
appeared  at  the  time,  was  merely  accidental. 
Another  person  had  engaged  to  supply  the 
pulpit,  but  being  unable,  for  some  reason,  to 
do  it,  he  requested  E.  to  go  in  his  place.  He 
went  and  preached,  returned  home,  and  thought 
no  more  of  it.    Not  so  the  Plymouth  people. 

In  the  month  of  June,  1857,  he  started  on 
his  western  tour.  Having  never  been  further 
in  that  direction  than  the  falls  of  Niagara, 
everything  to  him  was,  of  course,  new  and 
strange.  His  vivid  descriptions  in  his  letters 
home,  furnish  a  rich  dioramic  view  of  the 


WESTERN    TOUR.  109 

States  through  which  he  passed.  At  St.  Louis, 
where  he  spent  several  days,  and  where, 
through  the  kindness  of  friends  residing  there, 
he  had  been  shown  something  of  the  "  magni- 
tude and  extent  of  the  immense  business"  car- 
ried on  in  that  "  'world  of  itself^''  not  forgetting 
to  mention  "  one  of  the  finest  sermons  ever 
heard  in  his  life,"  to  which  it  was  his  privilege 
to  listen  during  the  Sabbath  spent  there, — at 
St.  Louis,  he  "  embarked,  for  the  first  time," 
on  the  bosom  of  the  great  "  Father  of  Waters." 

One  reason  for  his  making  this  tour  was,  to 
ascertain  his  qualifications,  or  rather  disquali- 
fications, for  a  settlement  at  the  West.  With 
this  object  steadily  in  view,  he  looked  at  the 
country,  its  scenery,  its  resources,  its  inhabit- 
ants, its  pulpits,  and  its  preachers. 

The  vast  outlay  in  public  works,  the  mag- 
nificence of  public  buildings,  most  of  which 
were  in  an  unfinished  state,  but  all  indicating 
the  "  activity  and  thrift  of  an  enterprising 
people"  were  very  astonishing  to  a  staid,  cau- 
tious, eastern  mind  like  his.   While  everything 


110  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

was  "yet  in  embryo"  and  '■'■intensely  new^  the 
people  were  pushing  matters  as  though  large 
cities  were  actually  theirs  in  possession." 

In  regard  to  the  "natural  scenery  of  the 
country,"  he  was  "  sure  that  the  long,  unbroken, 
verdant  prairies,  so  beautiful  to  some,  would, 
in  time,  become  wearisome  to  his  eye,  which 
had  been  educated  to  love  mountain  scenery." 

As  to  the  pulpit,  he  was  quite  sure  "he 
should  not  suit  a  western  audience."  They 
demanded  a  more  direct  ad  Jiominem  mode  of 
address  than  pervaded  his  written  discourses. 

At  St.  Anthony,  where  the  river,  "  hemmed 
in  between  its  broken  and  precipitous  banks, 
furnishes  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  uninter- 
esting level  everywhere  around,"  he  turned 
his  face  homeward. 

"  Up  to  this  time,"  he  writes  home,  that  "  he 
has  never  yet  seen  the  place  where  he  could 
say  he  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,"  but 
everywhere  he  had  found  friends,  who  had 
contributed  to  render  his  visit  not  only  agree- 
able but  profitable.   Even  here,  at  this  furthest 


WESTERN  TOUR. 


Ill 


point,  he  was  "greatly  cheered"  by  finding  a 
classmate,  whom  he  highly  respected,  "  the  last 
one  who,  he  should  suppose,  could  accommo- 
date himself  to  the  rougli  and  tumUe  of  western 
life,"  settled  down  to  the  practice  of  the  law. 

On  his  return,  he  stopped  at  different  points 
on  the  river,  and  took  a  different  route  on  his 
way  home. 

Among  other  important  objects  gained  by 
this  journey,  he  gained  this, — a  settled  convic- 
tion that  New  England  was  the  place  for  him ; 
that  his  education,  his  tastes,  his  habits,  all  re- 
quired the  surroundings  of  New  England  so- 
ciety, to  enable  him  to  pass  life,  not  only 
agreeably  but  usefully,  and  he  "  had  returned," 
as  he  said,  "  quite  willing  to  settle  down  in  a 
New  England  pulpit." 


CHAPTEK  VII. 


CALL  AND  SETTLEMENT  AT  PLYMOUTH  LETTERS 

HOME  DURING  A  PERIOD  OP  RELIGIOUS  INTER- 
EST AMONG  HIS  PEOPLE. 

It  has  been  stated,  that  before  leaving  home, 
he  preached  one  Sabbath  in  Plymouth,  then  des- 
titute of  a  pastor.  Immediately  on  his  return, 
he  was  invited  to  preach  as  a*  candidate  with 
reference  to  a  settlement  there.  This  he  de- 
clined, but  consented  to  preach  a  few  Sabbaths 
as  a  supply.  In  the  mean  time,  he  was  balan- 
cing the  question  in  his  own  mind  of  a  settle- 
ment in  one  of  two  or  three  other  places, 
which  had  opened  favorably  before  him, 
and  where,  by  encouraging  a  movement,  he 
might  doubtless  be  eligibly  located.  But 
before  any  decided  action  had  been  taken 
in  either  case,  a  call  came  from  the  Plymouth 

people  under  such  circumstances  that  he  could 
6* 


114  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


not  choose  but  listen  to  it.  The  indications  of 
Providence  were  so  manifest  as  to  leave  him 
scarcely  any  option  in  the  case. 

His  answer  accepting  the  call  bears  date 
December  5th,  1857.  Having  decided  on  a 
place  of  settlement,  he  set  himself  to  -a  careful 
preparation  for  the  performance  of  his  labors 
in  that  part  of  the  vineyard,  which  seemed  to 
be  the  will  of  his  Master  that  he  should  culti- 
vate. This  work  he  carried  forward  with 
great  seriousness. 

His  first  inquiry  respected  his  own  personal 
religion.  His  self-examination  was  deep  and 
thorough.  The  chamber  where  he  had  been 
taught  to  lisp  the  first  prayer  of  infancy,  now 
became  the  place  of  deep  heart-searchings,  and 
earnest  supplications,  for  divine  light  and  guid- 
ance. 

He  next  reviewed  the  great  and  fundamental 
doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  These  he  took  up  one 
by  one,  and  having  examined  each  carefully 
and  prayerfully,  formed  them  into  a  digest  of 
religious  belief,  and  adopted  this  as  his  creed 


SETTLEMENT   AT  PLYMOUTH. 


115 


to  present  before  the  council  at  his  examin- 
ation. 

The  time  intervening  between  his  acceptance 
of  the  call  and  settlement,  was  a  very  profitable 
season  to  him.  Favored  beyond  most  young 
men  who  are  looking  forward  to  the  ministry 
in  having  the  wise  and  judicious  instruction, 
and  counsel,  of  a  father  who  had  been  long  a 
faithful  and  successful  preacher  of  the  Gospel, 
surrounded  by  intelligent  Christian  friends, 
and  a  home  furnished  with  all  the  means  re- 
quisite to  the  formation  of  the  Christian  as 
well  as  of  the  ministerial  character,  and  having 
with  all  a  mind  that  c"ould  appreciate  these 
privileges,  he  could  not  but  be  well  qualified 
for  his  work. 

With  customary  forethought,  he  provided 
for  himself  a  home  among  the  people  of  his 
future  charge.  His  study  was  preeminently  his 
home.  In  securing  this  he  was  very  happy. 
The  house  in  which  it  was  located,  having  been 
the  residence  of  a  loved  and  venerated  pastor, 
who  was  sleeping  at  no  great  distance  among 


116 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


the  people  of  his  charge,  the  monumental 
stone  being  visible,  in  passing  to  and  from  the 
church  where  he  ministered,  serving  to  awaken 
associations  of  the  most  hallowed  and  profitable 
kind.  On  a  mind  like  his,  which  regarded  no- 
thing as  unimportant  that  could  be  made, 
though  in  a  small  degree,  to  contribute  to  the 
successful  prosecution  of  the  ministerial  work, 
they  were  not  lost. 

His  introductory  sermon  was  also  in  readi- 
ness, so  that  when  the  important  hour  arrived, 
the  hour,  to  him,  only  second  in  solemnity  to 
the  last  tribunal,  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to 
present  himself  before  the  council  for  examin- 
ation. 

With  great  self-possession,  and  w^ith  real 
modesty  of  mien  and  manner,  the  youthful 
candidate  sustained  a  strict  and  somewhat  pro- 
tracted examination,  standing  for  full  three 
hours,  and  answering  without  note  the  ques- 
tions usually  asked  on  such  occasions ;  showing 
by  the  readiness  and  pertinence  of  his  answers 
that  he  had  made  no  superficial  preparation 


SETTLEMENT   AT   PLYMOUTH.  Ill 


for  that  hour  of  trial, — and  more  than  this, 
that  he  regarded  the  office  of  the  ministry  as  a 
high  and  sacred  calling,  involving  responsibili- 
ties of  no  ordinary  nature, — responsibilities  to 
be  met  and  accounted  for  in  another  place, 
and  before  another  tribunal  than  the  one  then 
and  there  gathered. 

The  ordination  services  were  on  the  day 
following,  January  19th,  1858.  As  there 
are  no  printed  documents  to  refer  to,  these 
must  be  passed  over  in  silence,  with  the 
simple  notice  that  the  sermon  was  by  the  fa- 
ther of  the  youthful  candidate,  and  was  lis- 
tened to,  with  tender  interest  by  one  hearei" 
at  least. 

On  the  afternoon  after  his  ordination,  having 
received  the  calls  and  congratulations  of  several 
of  the  leading  people  of  his  congregation,  he 
took  his  father  round  and  called  on  some  who 
were  ill  and  could  not  attend  the  services, 
thus  early  manifesting  his  interest  in  every  in- 
dividual of  his  new  charge.  It  is  pleasant  to 
reflect,  that  this  interest  suffered  no  abatement 


118  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


but  steadily  increased  during  the  period  of  his 
brief  ministry. 

A  few  sketches  from  his  letters  home  will 
serve  to  illustrate  the  spirit  and  temper  with 
which  he  entered  upon  and  performed  the  new 
and  varied  duties  of  his  ministerial  work. 

To  his  mother:  "  January  2 2d,  1858.  Well ! 
the  excitement  of  ordination  is  over,  and  I  have 
now  fairly  entered  on  the  arduous  and  responsi- 
ble duties  of  a  settled  minister.  May  God  give 
me  wisdom  and  grace  to  meet  them  calmly  as 
they  come,  and  to  discharge  them  in  humble 
dependence  on  Him  for  his  aid.  *  *  *  * 
After  the  fatigue  and  excitement  of  the  week, 
I  do  not  feel  much  like  doing  any  great  things. 
I  am  heartily  glad  that  my  introductory  ser- 
mons are  all  prepared  for  the  Sabbath.  If 
they  were  not,  I  might  be  thrown  into  a  sad 
state  of  trepidation,  which  would  be  very  dis- 
astrous at  the  outset  of  my  ministry.    *    *  * 

February  9th,  1858.  To  his  mother:  "You 
may  have  been  surprised  at  not  seeing  me  on 
Monday  as  you  expected,  but  now  that  I  have 


LETTERS. 


119 


a  parish  to  look  after,  you  must  expect  to  have 
a  great  many  such  surprises.  I  had  a  funeral 
to  attend  yesterday,  which  necessarily  kept 
me  at  home  ;  and  as  I  am  now  exceedingly  busy 
in  making  the  acquaintance  of  my  parishioners, 
and  am  expecting  to  have  another  funeral 
to  attend  soon,  I  cannot  tell  when  you  will 
see  me.  I  find  that  the  parish  is  much  more 
scattered  than  I  supposed,  but  after  I  have 
gone  the  rounds,  and  become  better  acquainted 
with  the  localities,  then  the  labor  will  be  ren- 
dered easier  by  systematizing  matters.  I  have 
a  prayer-meeting  to  attend  on  Thursday  even- 
ing, and  have  started  again  the  Sabbath-school 
concert,  which  has  not  been  regularly  held,  as 
such,  for  a  long  time.  I  mean  that  the  Sab- 
bath-school shall  have  my  first  attention,  and 
also  the  monthly  concert  for  missions." 

"February  12th,  1858.  *  *  *  I  rejoice 
to  hear,  both  from  you  and  the  religious  pa- 
pers, that  there  is  so  much  interest  in  Hart- 
ford, and  especially  among  the  young.  I  hope 
it  may  increase.    I  wish  we  might  see  some 


120  EESKINE   J.  HAWES. 


signs  of  awakening  here.  It  seems  to  me  very- 
desirable  now  at  the  commencement  of  my 
ministry.  My  prayer  is,  that  I  may  not  stand 
in  the  way  of  such  a  work,  and  that  the  Lord 
would  give  me  more  of  a  revival  spirit  than  I 
already  possess,  and  qualify  me  for  such  a 
service.  There  is  interest  all  up  and  down  the 
Naugatuck  valley,  and  on  either  side  of  us. 

"  I  am  preparing  a  sermon  for  the  Sabbath 
on  the  text :  '  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as 
the  light,'  etc.  Subject:  Incentives  which 
should  lead  professing  Christians  to  put  forth 
personal  and  earnest  efforts  for  the  salvation 
of  their  fellow  men.  May  the  Spirit  make  it 
effectual  in  the  awakening  of  Christians  in  this 
place  to  the  state  of  the  impenitent  around 
them."    *    *  * 

"February  18th,  1858.  *  *  *  I  hope 
my  mind  may  become  less  encumbered  with 
the  duties  of  my  parish.  Bat  I  must  confess 
that  I  have  yet  to  learn  the  art  of  throwing  off 
•  care  at  the  proper  time,  and  taking  things  as 
they  come.    I  am  always  inclined  to  anticipate 


LETTERS. 


121 


duty,  and  there  is  indeed  something  comfort- 
able in  being  able  to  survey  a  duty  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  as  it  approaches  think  that  you  are 
all  prepared  fo  meet  it.    *    *  * 

"  I  am  writing  a  sermon  on  the  text :  '  Re- 
store unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salvation,'  etc.  I 
hope  to  be  able  to  bring  it  before  the  people 
on  the  coming  Sabbath,  as  it  contains  a  subject 
which  seems  peculiarly  adap'ted  to  the  present 
state  of  things  in  the  church.  In  a  note  which 
I  wrote  this  evening  to  one  of  the  brethren,  I 
suggested  the  following  plan,  which  I  presume 
they  are  discussing  at  the  meeting,  viz.:  to 
have  a  Committee  appointed  to  call  on  the 
different  members  of  the  church  and  ascertain 
what  is  the  state  of  religion,  both  with  them- 
selves and  in  their  families.  I  hope  the  plan 
may  gain  their  approval  and  be  productive  of 
good."    *    *  * 

"March  Tth,  1858.  *  *  *  Sunday- 
school  concert  this  evening — very  fully  at- 
tended. The  Committee,  who  were  appointed 
to  visit  the  different  families,  went  their 


122 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


rounds  and  gave  in  very  interesting  reports, 
last  Wednesday  afternoon.  Some  cases  of  in- 
quiry have  come  to  light,  and  I  have  appointed 
Tuesday  evening  to  see  any  individuals  who 
may  wish  to  converse  on  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion. The  appearance  of  things  is  encour- 
aging. Some  have  already  come  out  and 
expressed  a  hope  in  Christ."     *    *  * 

"March  23d,  1858.  *  *  *  I.  wish  that 
I  could  be  present  and  attend  some  of  the  re- 
ligious meetino^s  of  which  I  hear  such  interest- 
ing  accounts,  and  I  have  had  serious  thoughts 
of  doing  so,  but  have  about  given  them  up,  at 
least  for  the  present,  because  I  have  so  much 
to  attend  to.  Though  there  is  as  yet  here  no 
very  wide-spread  interest,  still  there  are  a  few 
cases  of  inquiry,  and  the  state  of  things  seems 
to  demand  an  increase  of  meetings.  I  ap- 
pointed Monday  evening  to  see  any  who  might 
wish  to  inquire,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
brethren  held  a  meeting  in  the  vestry.  There 
were  some  six  or  seven  who  called  on  me  for 
religious  conversation.    I  have  had  three  such 


LETTERS. 


123 


meetings,  and  about  the  same  number  each 
evening.  The  signs,  I  think,  are  encouraging. 
I  feel  more  than  ever  the  need  of  divine  aid  in 
all  my  services,  and  especially  when  directing 
others  in  the  way  of  eternal  life.  I  have  been 
more  fully  persuaded  than  ever,  of  late,  of  the 
utter  inefficiency  of  means  without  the  aid  of 
God's  spirit,  and  have  endeavored  to  throw  my- 
self more  entirely  on  the  divine  sovereignty,  on 
which  I  love  to  dwell  in  my  thoughts.  *  *  * 

"The  preparation  of  a  sermon  for  fast-day, 
as  well  as  for  the  coming  Sabbath,  aside  from 
the  other  services,  will  keep  me  very  busy. 
It  has  been  thought  best  to  appoint  a  meeting 
of  some  kind  on  Sabbath  evening,  in  order  to 
deepen  any  impression  which  may  have  been 
made  during  the  day.  The  young  men  have 
started  a  Wednesday  evening  prayer-meet-s 
ing — meeting  for  conference  and  prayer  on 
Thursday  evening.  There  is  also  a  female 
prayer-meeting  during  the  week."    *    *  * 

"April  6th,  1858.  My  dear  Father:  It 
was  my  intention  to  have  spent  two  or  three 


124  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

days  of  this  week  at  home,  for  the  purpose  of 
attending  the  religious  services  in  the  city,  I 
have  no  doubt  it  would  have  been  every  way 
profitable  to  me  as  I  need  a  change.  As  the 
interest,  however,  is  deepening  among  my  own 
people,  I  feel  that  I  cannot  leave  judiciously, 
but  must  stay  by  to  direct  and  counsel.  I 
have  appointed  Monday  evening  to  see  inquir- 
ers. Last  evening  there  were  some  fourteen 
in  my  room,  some  of  whom  were  under  very 
deep  conviction.  There  have  been  some  con- 
versions,— one  of  a  young  man,  who  has  been 
considered  a  very  hopeless  case.  But  there  is 
one  thing  that  distresses  me, — the  church  are 
not  awake  and  active  as  they  should  be.  Some 
few  are  taking  a  noble  stand,  and  are  a  real 
help ;  but  the  majority  do  not  seem  to  realize 
the  fact,  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  at  work 
on  the  hearts  of  the  impenitent,  and  that  all 
they  have  to  do  is  to  put  in  the  sickle.  I  am 
willing  to  work  in  my  own  imperfect  way  just 
as  the  Lord  gives  me  strength,  but  I  cannot  do 
everything.   I  spent  all  of  Saturday,  and  a  part 


LETTERS. 


125 


of  yesterday  and  to-day  in  calling  on  those  who 
have  been  to  converse  with  me  on  the  subject 
of  religion.  It  taxes  the  body,  but  is  pleasant 
to  the  soul.  To-day  I  feel  nearly  exhausted, 
but  I  desire  to  lie  like  an  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  God,  and  it  is  my  earnest  prayer  that 
He  will  serve  Himself  with  me  just  as  He  may 
see  fit.  Sometimes  I  think  I  shall  not  live 
very  long,  and  this  makes  me  want  to  live  all 
the  faster.  It  seems  strange  to  me  that  the 
people  here  do  not  take  hold  more  in  earnest, 
when  there  is  such  encouragement  to  labor. 
The  impenitent  are  peculiarly  accessible.  Yes- 
terday I  went  up  into  the  north  part  of  the 
town, — stopped  at  a  house,  and  had  a  few  mo- 
ments' conversation  with  an  individual,  whom  I 
at  once  found  ready  to  converse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  religion,  and  very  tender.  This  is  only 
one  of  many  instances.  But  I  have  not  time 
nor  strength  to  do  all  I  would ;  and  I  cannot 
say  that  I  am  well,  and  I  greatly  desire  that 
the  people  should  fto  more,  both  to  assist  me, 
and  for  their  own  good.    Being  new  in  the 


126  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


business,  I  do  not  know  bow  many  meetings  it 
is  wise  to  have.  Our  services  are  these: 
Sunday  evening,  prayer-meeting ;  Monday 
evening,  see  inquirers ;  Wednesday  evening, 
young  people's  meeting;  Thursday  evening, 
conference  and  prayer.  Do  you  think  these 
are  sufficient  ?  There  are  some  cases  of  inquiry 
which  sorely  perplex  me :  one  or  two  individ- 
uals who  have  been  a  long  time  in  the  dark, 
and  get  no  light,  and  nothing  I  can  say  to 
them  seems  to  do  them  any  good.  Then,  with 
regard  to  those  who  indulge  a  hope,  I  am  ex- 
ceedingly afraid  to  say  anything  to  encourage 
them,  for  fear  they  may  be  mistaken,  what  do 
you  do  with  these  ?  what  counsels  do  you  think 
it  best  to  give  to  those  just  commencing  a 
religious  life,  and  what  exercises  do  you  think 
it  best  to  conduct  for  their  particular  benefit  ? 
So  many  questions  come  up  that  I  scarcely 
know  in  what  order  to  state  them.  I  feel  my 
exceeding  weakness  and  ignorance,  oftentimes, 
in  conversing  with  and  directing  inquirers.  It 
is  a  fearful  responsibility.    Can  you  not  come 


LETTERS.  •  12Y 

• 

-out  here  and  spend  next  Sabbath,  or  the  Sab- 
bath after,  and  one  or  two  days,  by  getting  a 
supply  for  your  own  pulpit  ?  It  would  greatly 
assist  me,  and  awaken  the  people.  It  seems  to 
me  that  if  we  could  have  one  or  two  heavy 
blows  struck  just  at  this  time,  it  would  be  just 
what  we  need.  You  would  then,  by  personal 
observation,  tell  me  what  course  you  think  I 
had  better  pursue. 

"But  I  cannot  write  more.  Affectionate 
regards  to  mother.    Your  affectionate  son, 
"E.  J.  Hawes." 

This  urgent  request  coming  from  an  only 
and  tenderly  loved  son,  the  father  could  not 
comply  with,  as  he  had  more  than  he  could 
possibly  do  at  home,  there  being  an  unusual 
interest  among  his  own  people.  In  his  be- 
reaved hopes,  the  grieved  child  thus  writes : 

"April  14th,  1858.  My  dear  Father:  I 
regretted,  exceedingly,  that  you  could  not  find 
it  convenient  to  be  present  here  on  Monday. 
On  the  strength  of  what  mother  wrote,  I  ap- 


128  BRSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

• 

pointed  a  meeting  for  Monday  evening,  without 
stating  definitely  the  form  which  the  exercises 
w^ould  take,  but  merely  mentioning  that  I  ex- 
pected you  to  be  here  and  to  bear  some  part 
in  the  services.  Some  doubtless  came  expect- 
ing to  see  you,  and  went  away  disappointed. 
We,  however,  had  a  pleasant,  and,  I  hope,  a 
profitable  meeting,  but  it  put  an  additional 
burden  on  me,  which  I  felt  hardly  able  to 
bear,  as  duties  have  increased  much  of  late. 
On  Sunday,  besides  preaching  during  the 
day,  I  attended  a  funeral  in  the  afternoon, 
where  I  made  an  address;*  then  married  a 
couple  in  church,  after  which  I  availed  myself 
of  the  audience  in  attendance  to  dispense  the 
Word  once  more  in  their  hearing.  (The  meet- 
ing of  Monday  evening  has  been  mentioned.) 
Tuesday  evening  I  attended  the  Young  Peo- 
ple's meeting.  This  evening  (Wednesday)  I 
have  just  been  seeing  inquirers;  to-morrow 
evening  I  attend  the  meeting  for  conference 
and  prayer.    Besides,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  look 

*  The  custom  of  tlie  place  required  this. 


LETTERS. 


129 


continually  after  those  under  concern,  by- 
calling  on  them  at  their  houses.  Some  one 
must  do  the  work,  or  else  the  interest,  what 
there  is,  will  flag.  I  could  wish  that  the  mem- 
bers of  the  church  were  more  engaged.  I  do 
what  I  can  myself,  and,  after  all,  mourn  that  I 
can  do  so  little. 

"There  have  been  some  interesting  con- 
versions, which  have  afforded  me  much  encour- 
agement, but  I  am  annoyed  with  the  fact,  that 
on  the  minds  of  some  young  men  who  have 
been  interested,  there  are  evil  influences 
brought  to  bear  from  without,  weakening  their 
serious  impressions,  and  leading  them  to  give 
up  the  subject.  It  is  discouraging  to  see  a 
person  one  evening  seemingly  near  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  and  then  to  call  on  him  a  day 
or  two  afterwards  and  find  that  instead  of 
gaining,  he  has  lost  ground,  and  that,  through 
the  influence  of  some  ungodly  associate.  It  is 
hard  to  be  obliged  to .  work  against  these 
counter  influences.  There  have  been  a  few 
precious  drops,  but  I  desire  to  see  a  more 
7 


130 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


copious  shower  like  that  which  has  blest  a 
town  adjacent.  I  wish  to  see  you  very  much 
for  the  purpose  of  talking  over  matters  and 
things  here.  I  thought  if  you  could  only  come 
and  give  us  one  or  two  of  your  stirring  ser- 
mons, the  effect  would  be  most  salutary,  but  I 
shall  no  t  invite  you  again.  I  will  only  say,  that 
in  ray  weakness  such  a  visit  from  you  at  this 
time  would  be  most  acceptable  and  opportune. 
It  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  all  the  church  are 
not  awake  and  active  when  the  impenitent 
seem  so  ready  to  be  conversed  with.  But 
whatever  others  may  do,  I  shall  labor  for  the 
Lord  just  as  long  as  He  gives  me  strength.  I 
have  come  to  the  resolution  to  find  out  just 
how  every  one  stands  on  the  subject  of  religion, 
who  is  in  the  habit  of  attending  my  church, 
and  at  least  let  him  know  that  I  feel  deeply 
for  his  salvation." 

In  justice  to  the  father,  it  should  be  stated 
here,  that  however  grateful  it  would  have 
been  to  him  to  have  aided  his  son,  yet  that  his 
own  labors  were  so  varied  and  increased  by  an 


LETTERS. 


131 


unusual  interest  in  Ms  own  parish,  it  was  im- 
possible for  him  to  do  so. 

"April  20th,  1858.  My  dear  Mother:  I 
cannot  forbear  writing  a  line  to  you  before  re- 
tiring. The  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  I  believe,  is 
present  with  us  in  power.  This  evening  I 
went  into  the  young  people's  meeting,  and  was 
at  once  awed  at  the  solemnity  which  was  mani- 
fest. It  has  been  my  custom  to  run  in  just 
before  the  close  of  this  meeting,  and  make  a 
few  remarks,  concluding  with  a  brief  prayer. 
Judge  of  my  surprise  when  one,  and  then  an- 
other of  those  who  had  been  known  to  be  im- 
penitent arose,  and  in  a  few,  simple,  direct 
words  declared  their  purpose  to  live  for  Christ. 
Some  of  these  had  previously  conversed  with 
me  on  the  subject  of  religion,  others  had  not. 
Five  of  these  are  remarkable  conversions ; 
young  men,  who,  perhaps,  have  been  regarded 

as  far  from  the  right  way  as  any  in  P  . 

One  of  these  was  in  ray  room  last  evening,  and 
I  shall  never  forget  the  look  which  he  gave  me 
when  I  asked  him  how  he  felt,  and  his  reply : 


132 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


"I  have  had  for  the  last  week  just  religion 
enough  to  make  me  most  dreadfully  wretched." 
But  this  evening  he  is  calm  and  peaceful. 
Prayer-meetings  are  being  multiplied, — several 
being  held  the  same  evening  in  different  neigh- 
borhoods. I  wish  I  could  attend  them  all,  but 
this  of  course  is  impossible. 

"  Christians  are  beginning  to  awake.  Mr. 
  is  really  roused,  and  being  a  man  of  in- 
fluence, gives  me  most  essential  aid.  His  wife, 
also,  is  a  most  efficient  helper.  She  is  new  in 
the  divine  life.  He  has  passed  through  a  new 
conversion  of  late,  and  is  constantly  going 
round  among  the  impenitent  and  laboring 
with  them.  He  is  a  man  whom  all  love  and 
esteem,  and  who  has,  perhaps,  a  greater  influ- 
ence over  all  classes  than  any  other  man  in 
P  . 

"This  is  a  glorious  state  of  things  for  this 
church,  for  its  tendency  will  be  to  cement  the 
brethren  still  more  closely  in  the  bonds  of  love. 
In  the  course  of  my  pasti)ral  visits,  and  I 
have  done  a  good  deal  of  that  of  late,  I  am 


LETTERS. 


133 


continually  meeting  with  those  who  are  tender 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  It  is  interesting  to 
ask  the  question  of  an  individual,  how  the  mat- 
ter stands  with  his  soul  ?  and  to  find  that  the 
Lord  has  already  gone  before  you,  and  been  at 
work  on  that  soul  by  his  Spirit.  Many  such 
cases  have  come  to  my  notice  in  different  parts 
of  the  town.  Some  have  come  to  me,  whom  I 
have  never  seen  or  heard  of  before,  and  of 
course  did  not  know  to  be  interested,  and  have 
declared  their  faith  in  Christ.  The  matter  has 
been  simply  between  them  and  Christ,  with 
their  Bible  as  their  guide.  But  I  cannot  write 
more,  though  I  have  much  to  write.  I  said 
this  evening  I  would  give  a  great  deal  if  father 
would  run  down  here,  just  at  this  time,  and 
give  me  a  week's  assistance  and  counsel,  for  I 
do  not  know  how  I  am  going  to  meet  all  the 
labor  which  is  to  be  devolved  upon  me.  I  do 
not  know  what  to  do.  It  is  pleasant  to  visit 
and  very  necessary,  but  then  it  takes  up  my 
time,  and  I  find  it  somewhat  dissipating  to 
thought.    Of  course  I  have  no  time  for  reading 


134 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


or  study,  and  this  alarms  me,  I  am  exceed- 
ingly afraid,  with  the  constant  draughts  made 
on  me,  I  shall  run  dry. 

"Remember  me  in  your  prayers  that  my 
strength  fail  not.  I  feel  it  a  very  solemn  re- 
sponsibility to  attempt  the  guidance  of  souls. 
I  feel  my  utter  impotency,  and  after  I  have 
been  seeing  inquirers,  feel  sorely  distressed  and 
dissatisfied  with  myself  that  I  hare  done  so 
poorly  in  pointing  them  to  a  Saviour.  Many 
cases  perplex  me  exceedingly." 

We  will  leave  him  here  in  the  midst  of  this 
period  of  religious  interest,  with  simply  remark- 
ing, that  he  probably  had  less  cause  than  usu- 
ally falls  to  the  lot  of  many  pastors  at  the  close 
of  a  revival  like  that  with  which  his  people 
were  blest,  to  lament  over  those,  who,  having 
begun  the  Christian  course,  turned  back  again 
to  the  world,  and  thus  gave  evidence  that  they 
never  were  truly  converted. 

His  letters  home  during  the  two  succeeding 
years  of  his  ministry,  furnish  ample  evidence 
of  his  tender,  faithful  watch  and  care  of  those 


REVIVAL    AT  PLYMOUTH. 


135 


"over  whom  the  Holy  Ghost  had  made  him 
overseer,"  that  he  "  might  present  them," 
"  evey^y  one  of  them^''  "  faultless  before  the 
throne,  in  that  day,"  when  their  souls  should 
be  required  at  his  hand. 

He  lived  only  for  his  people, — he  labored 
only  for  them.  Their  temporal  as  well  as  their 
spiritual  good  lay  near  his  heart.  In  all  their 
plans  for  the  improvement  of  morals  in  the 
place,  he  rendered  very  efficient  aid,  both  by 
his  wise  counsels  and  judicious  efforts.  Espe- 
cially was  this  true  in  the  cause  of  temperance, 
in  which  he  took  a  prominent  part.  At  the 
time  of  his  death,  he  was  interested  in  a  plan 
for  the  improvement  of  the  grounds  around  his 
church, — and  much  more  deeply  interested  in 
what  at  all  times  lay  near  his  heart,  but  now 
pressed  with  unusual  weight  upon  it,  the  re- 
viving of  the  interest  in  religion,  which  had 
begun  sadly  to  decline  among  his  own  people.* 
During  the  winter  following  the  revival  among 
his  people,  a  certain  amusement  had  been 

*  See  a  notice  of  this  in  the  article  by  his  friend  Monteith. 


136 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


introduced  whicli  had  a  direct  tendency''  to 
draw  off  the  attention  of  the  young  from 
serious  things.  In  this  amusement,  he  learned 
with  pain,  that  two  of  the  younger  members  of 
his  church  had  been  drawn  in  to  participate. 
Wishing  to  prepare  a  sermon  to  meet  the  case, 
he  sent  home  for  the  best  tracts  on  the  subject. 
The  tracts  w^ere  sent,  and  with  them  this  short 
piece  of  advice  from  his  father :  "  '  Ne\'er  take 
a  horse  by  the  hind  foot  while  he  is  eating  his 
oats.'  Wait  till  the  excitement  is  over,  and 
then  it  will  do  for  you  to  preach  on  the  sub- 
ject." This  judicious  advice  was  acted  upon, 
and  thus  much  exciting  and  unprofitable  dis- 
cussion on  the  subject  of  dancing  was  avoided, 
which  would  have  been  unhappy  at  the  time, 
as  there  was  still  some  lingering  seriousness  in 
the  place. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 


BRIEF  NOTICES   OF  HIS   MINISTRY  BY  OTHERS  

CHARACTERISTICS  HIS  PREACHING. 

When  it  was  in  contemplation  to  prepare 
something  that  might  serve  as  a  remembrancer 
of  what  he  was,  and  of  what  he  did,  a  request 
was  made  to  his  people  in  Plymouth  to  furnish 
such  items  of  interest  in  his  ministry  among 
them,  as  they  might  wish  to  have  preserved 
for  their  own  use,  and  also  for  the  little  ones 
of  his  parish,  who  were  too  young  to  appreciate 
his  labors  for  their  good,  when  he  was  taken 
from  them. 

A  few  such  items  have  been  kindly  furn- 
ished. The  first  is  from  the  youngest  member 
in  his  church — spoken  of  as  the  "  lamb  in  his 
flock."  It  will  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the 
course  he  took  with  those  converted  under  his 
ministry. 

*    *    "Some  of  us  remember  him  as  the 
7* 


138  BRSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


best  friend  we  ever  had.  His  words  first  led 
us  to  see  our  own  sinfulness  in  the  sight  of  a 
Holy  God,  and  to  cry  out  '  what  must  we  do  to 
he  saved  f  Then,  he  pointed  us  to  the  '■Lamb 
of  God,  that  taheth  away  the  sins  of  the  world^ 
and  gently  has  he  led  us  on  ever  since, — re- 
proving us  when  he  saw  us  going  wrong,  and 
encouraging  us  to  press  onward  in  the  straight 
and  narrow  way." 

A  loved  member  of  his  church,  a  subject  of 
the  revival,  thus  writes: 

"When  the  Rev.  E.  J.  Hawes  was  sent  to 
watch  over  us,  we  had  been  for  nearly  two 
years  without  a  shepherd,  and  were  as  sheep 
going  astray. 

"The  hand  of  God  was  plainly  visible  in 
sending  to  us,  at  that  important  crisis,  one 
whom  He  had  chosen,  and  peculiarly  qualified 
for  our  circumstances  and  needs. 

"  His  ordination  was  an  occasion  of  thrilling 
interest  to  us  as  a  people,  and  to  our  newly- 
chosen  pastor,  as  we  have  every  reason  to 
believe.    *    *  * 


HIS  MIlSriSTRY. 


139 


"The  two  and  a  half  years  of  his  ministry 
was  a  period  of  very  great  interest  and  profit 
to  this  church  and  people, — made  so,  mainly, 
by  the  consistent  Christian  influence  and  wise 
guidance  of  our  beloved  pastor.  During  the 
memorable  winter  and  spring  of  1858,  when 
the  Spirit  of  Grod  visited  this  parish,  his  labors 
were  very  arduous  and  unremitting.  Without 
previous  experience,  he  met  all  his  calls,  both 
public  and  private,  in  the  most  prompt  and 
eflicient  manner. 

"On  the  first  Sabbath  in  July,  1858,  he  re- 
ceived into  his  church,  by  original  profession, 
thirty-eight  members ;  by  letter,  nine.*  Our 
young  pastor  then  gave  evidence  of  enjoying 
to  its  fullest  extent  the  pleasure  of  being  about 
his  Master's  business.  Surrounded  with  these 
seals  of  his  ministry,  he  performed  the  services 
with  the  most  touching  emotions  of  love,  joy, 
and  humility.  It  had  been  his  constant  and 
fervent  prayer  that  the  day  might  come  when 
many  should  be  added  to  the  church,  of  such 

•  The  records  show  63  added  to  the  church  during  his  ministry. 


140 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


as  should  be  saved ;  and  now  before  his  risen 
Saviour,  he  presented  them,  and  commended 
them  to  his  care  and  guidance,  with  a  fervor 
of  spirit  seldom  witnessed.  This  seemed  his 
happiest  daj^, — when  he  could  behold  the  work 
which  had  been  accomplished  for  eternity, 
through  '  his  feehle  instrumentality^  and  in  an- 
swer to  his  earnest  and  agonizing  prayers. 

"  He  was  encouraged  and  strengthened,  and 
from  that  day  there  seemed  to  be  in  him  a  new 
power,  an  inspiration  as  it  were,  which  never 
left  him  through  the  whole  of  his  brief  ministry. 

"From  the  first  of  his  settlement  with  us, 
he  had  been  steadily  advancing  in  every  Chris- 
tian and  ministerial  grace ;  but  the  year  pre- 
ceding his  death  was  marked  by  a  rich  and 
sudden  development,  not  only  in  these  gi-aces, 
but  also  in  mental  power,  which  gave  promise 
of  a  life  of  great  and  increasing  usefulness. 
But  the  Great  Head  of  the  Church  has  ordered 
it  otherwise.  While  he  has  left  with  us  his 
bright  example,  his  lovely  character,  the  sweet 
savor  of  his  Christian  virtues,  to  shine  on  our 


HIS  MINISTRY. 


141 


pathway,  he  has  taken  the  original,  our  lovely 
and  beloved  pastor,  to  a  place  prepared  for  him 
among  those  '  many  mansions '  in  his  Father's 

house  above." — Mrs.  G  ,  Plymouth. 

"  Every  one  noticed  his  interest  in  the  chil- 
dren of  his  parish, — his  earnest  desire  that  they 
might  be  early  infolded  in  the  Saviour's  arms, 
and  their  names  written  in  the  Lamb's  book 
of  life." 

Early  in  his  ministry  he  wrote  thus  to  his 
mother:  "  I  mean  that  the  Sabbath-school  shall 
have  my  first  attention."  "I  have  started 
again  the  Sabbath-school  concert,  which  has 
not  been  regularly  held  as  such  for  a  long 
time."  How  well  he  carried  out  the  above 
"intentions"  parents,  whose  children  enjoyed 
the  benefit  of  his  interest  in  the  institution, 
best  can  testify.  That  his  own  estimate  of  its 
importance  sujffered  no  diminution,  is  strik- 
ingly illustrated  in  the  following  brief  extract 
from  a  sermon  preached  near  the  close  of  his 
ministry : 

"  How  important  may  be  the  influence, — ■ 


142 


ERSKINE  J.  HATVES. 


how  fruitful  in  results  tbe  fidelity  of  an  hum- 
ble Sabbath-school  teacher !  He  cannot,  even 
in  thought,  take  the  measure  of  the  possible 
fruit  of  his  devoted  labors.  With  minds  around 
him,  destined  to  act  on  other  minds,  and  these 
again  on  others  still,  till  time  itself  shall  be  no 
more,  he  seems  almost  to  have  other  ages 
placed  in  his  hands  to  mould  them  as  he  will. 
How  unspeakable  a  privilege, — how  responsible 
a  duty !  It  is  not  merely  the  ti'aining  of  the 
immortal  minds  before  him,  important,  un- 
speakably important  as  this  work  is,  in  which 
he  is  engaged,  but  he  is  shaping  the  destiny, 
perhaps,  of  thousands  whom  he  will  never  meet 
or  know,  till  they  meet  him  before  the  judg- 
ment seat  of  God," 

The  following  brief  sketch  from  his  friend 
Monteith,  was  addressed  to  the  mother  of 
the  deceased,  and  bears  date  December,  1860 : 

"  My  acquaintance  with  your  son  was  short, 
but  familiar,  if  not  intimate.  We  were  side 
by  side  in  the  ministry,  as  you  know,  for  more 


HIS  MINISTRY. 


143 


than  two  years.  During  that  period,  although 
we  were  both  busily  engaged  in  our  respectire 
parishes,  yet  the  contiguity  of  our  fields,  and 
our  nimble  horses,  often  brought  us  together. 

"  The  first  time  I  saw  Erskine,  after  I  went 
to  Plymouth,  he  was  engaged  in  preparing  his 
Thursday  evening  lecture,  and  whenever  I  met 
him  after  this  (except  in  our  rides),  he  was 
earnestly  engaged  in  his  Master's  work. 

"  He  always  evinced  an  unquestionable  love 
for  his  work,  and  made  it  his  first  business  to 
secure  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  pulpit 
duties.  He  often  said  he  endeavored  to  make 
every  sermon  as  good  as  he  could.  On  Mon- 
day, I  sometimes  found  him  desponding.  He 
feared  that  he  might  have  been  inexact  or 
unfaithful  in  presenting  the  truth,  the  day 
before.  On  such  occasions,  he  used  to  say  his 
cure  was  to  read  one  of  Spurgeon's  sermons, 
and  to  reflect  how  the  Lord  had  blessed  per- 
formances which  made  so  little  pretension  to 
style.  His  frequent  quotations,  in  conversa- 
tion, from  Edwards,  D wight,  Bellamy,  Hopkins, 


144  ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 

and  from  South  and  Witherspoon,  showed  how- 
well  he  had  acquainted  himself  with  the  stand- 
ard theological  writers.  We  have  often  spent 
a  most  exhilarant  half  hour  over  some  quaint 
and  pithy  passage  in  Bishop  South.  When 
we  rode  on  horseback,  his  spirits  were  invaria- 
bly joyous.  With  the  most  evident  satisfac- 
tion he  would  talk  over  his  plans  for  future 
preaching  and  labor  ;  and  I  have  often  remark- 
ed his  readiness  in  giving  abstracts  of  the  ser- 
mons he  had  preached,  or  was  about  to  preach. 

"  I  never  heard  from  him  anything  that 
indicated  an  undue  aspiration  or  ambition. 
He  never  talked  of  his  future,  except  as  it  was 
connected  with  Plymouth. 

"  He  was  exceedingly  attached  to  the  great 
truths  in  the  Bible,  the  cardinal  doctrines, 
and  the  principal  events  in  the  life  of  our 
Saviour.  I  used  to  think  he  displayed  a  great 
deal  of  skill  in  the  selection  of  fruitful  and 
striking  texts.  My  people  observed  his  rapid 
growth  from  time  to  time,  as  we  exchanged 
pulpits.    On  one  occasion,  I  remember  hearing 


HIS  MINISTRY. 


145 


one  of  my  congi'egation  say,  *  Brother  Hawes 
brings  his  sermons  right  up  out  of  the  good 
book' 

"  A  few  months  before  his  decease,  he  was 
deeply  interested  in  a  new  plan  for  District 
Visitation,  and  Tract  Distribution,  which  his 
church  were  about  to  set  in  operation.  One 
afternoon  he  rode  over  to  see  me,  and  said, 
'  Our  church  have  been  praying  this  afternoon 
that  the  Lord  would  bless  this  work.'  The 
tears  in  his  eyes  showed  how  genuine  and 
intense  his  interest  was.  It  was  the  only  time 
I  ever  saw  him  weep. 

"  In  neatness  of  person,  and  of  everything 
that  concerned  his  horse  or  his  room,  he  ex- 
celled, almost  to  a  fault. 

"  When  we  went  to  Norwich  together  to 
attend  the  meeting  of  the  General  Association, 
I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  more  of  his 
private  life ;  I  remarked  to  a  friend  at  the 
time,  that  I  never  had  seen  a  person  of  so 
unexceptionable  habits. 

"  The  last  time  I  met  him  before  I  was  sum- 


146  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

moned  to  his  deatli-bed,  was  when  he  reached 
me  on  his  return  from  the  General  Associa- 
tion in  June  last.  I  think  this  was  about 
two  weeks  before  his  death.  He  drove  up  to 
my  door,  and  calling  me  out,  said,  '  I  have  a 
text  for  you  to  preach  on :  It  is  the  last 
words  of  Theodore  Parker.  He  says,  I  have 
had  great  powers  committed  to  me,  but  I  have 
only  half  used  them.  Take  these  words,'  said 
Erskine, '  and  show  the  contrast  between  them, 
and  the  faith  of  the  dying  Christian.  In 
Parker's  words,  there  is  a  sentiment  of  self- 
trust  combined  with  disappointment,  and  no 
hope  for  the  future.'  Little  did  I  then  think 
I  should  so  soon  be  called  upon  to  see  a 
sermon  preached  on  this  very  text,  in  the 
triumphant  death  of  your  son. 

"  His  death  scene,  ever  calling  up  the  solemn 
words  he  addressed  to  me,  the  beautiful  expres- 
sions of  filial  love  and  gratitude  he  gave  to 
his  mother,  the  affectionate  remembrances  of 
his  father,  the  sweet  hymns  he  quoted,  the 
firm  trust  in  the  words  of  Scripture,  and  the 


CHARACTERISTICS. 


147 


bright  hope  he  exhibited, — this  scene  will 
remain  with  me  in  all  its  vividness,  till  I  am 
called  to  meet  him  above.  For  having  wit- 
nessed all  this,  I  trust,  I  am,  by  the  ^  grace  of 
God,  a  better  man,  a  better  preacher.  I  shall 
ever — with  all  who  knew  him — cherish  the 
memory  of  Erskine  Hawes,  with  the  sweetest 
veneration.  Upon  whom  shall  his  mantle  fall  ? 
"  Affectionately  yours, 

"  John  Monteith,  Jr." 

The  mention  of  his  unexceptionable  habits 
by  his  friend  Monteith,  suggests  the  propriety 
of  noticing  some  of  his  more  prominent  char- 
acteristics. Among  these,  and  the  leading 
one,  was  the  beautiful  consistency  of  his  daily 
life,  his  conduct  and  conversation,  with  his 
Christian  profession. 

A  friend,  who  knew  him  well  from  early 
childhood,  and  who  was  often  with  him  during 
his  summer  excursions,  remarks  :  "  Wherever 
he  went,  he  took  his  religion  with  him.  Wheth- 
er among  mountain  solitudes,  far  from  the 


148  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

busy  haunts  of  man,  or  in  places  of  more  pub- 
lic resort,  where  all  classes  are  promiscuously 
thrown  together,  in  their  summer  gatherings, 
it  shone  with  the  same  steady  light ;  never 
standing  out  obtrusively  prominent  at  one 
time,  and  then,  at  another,  hidden  or  obscured 
by  worldliness  or  levity.  It  permeated  his 
whole  character,  lending  a  quiet  grace  to  every- 
thing he  did  and  said. 

His  self-distrust  has  often  been  alluded  to. 
This  led  him  to  seek  that  wisdom  which  com- 
eth  from  above,  "Whenever  objects  of  import- 
ance were  to  be  effected  through  his  influence, 
he  never  trusted  to  his  own  judgment,  if  he 
could  avail  himself  of  the  advice  of  those  on 
whose  judgment  he  could  rely.  This  was  strik- 
ingly true  in  his  ministerial  life. 

A  neighbor,  an  elder  brother  in  the  ministry, 
whom  he  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting,  spoke 
of  this  to  his  parents  as  something  worthy  of 
notice,  especially  being  a  young  minister; 
such  generally  feeling  better  able  to  direct 
themselves,  than  after  they  have  had  some 


CHARACTERISTICS. 


149 


years  of  experience.  Then  it  was  the  more 
noticeable  on  account  of  the  position  which 
he  occupied, — ^looked  up  to  himself  for  advice, 
by  an  intelligent  people,  by  whom  he  was 
regarded  with  a  feeling  bordering  on  venera- 
tion, it  certainly  was  a  mark  of  humility,  and 
as  it  proved,  of  that  humility,  which  the  "  Lord 
delighteth  to  honor." 

The  lady  with  whom  he  boarded  during  the 
first  months  of  his  ministry  in  Plymouth,  says, 
"  He  often  came  to  me  in  any  case  where  he 
needed  advice  ;  sometimes  read  his  sermon  to 
me,  saying  as  an  apology,  '  If  my  mother  was 
here,  I  should  read  it  to  her  for  criticism,  and 
in  her  absence,  I  must  make  a  mother  of  you,' 
and  if,  as  in  some  cases,  I  suggested  any  altera- 
tion which  seemed  best  to  me,  as  I  had  been 
longer  in  the  place,  and  seen  more  of  his 
parishioners  than  he  had,  he  always  with  the 
humility  of  a  child  accepted  the  suggestion." 

•  A  parishionei',  says  of  him,  "  In  all  his 
intercourse  with  us,  he  was  a  happy  combina- 
tion of  the  minister  and  the  man." 


150  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

His  natural  diffidence  never  entirely  left 
him.  This,  with  his  self-distrust,  had  rather 
an  embarrassing  effect,  throwing  an  air  of  re- 
straint around  him  whenever  he  entered  his 
father's  pulpit.  It,  however,  entirely  disap- 
peared in  his  own. 

The  friend  whose  remarks  are  freely  alluded 
to,  spoke  of  this.  He  says,  "  I  could  not  but 
notice  the  difference  between  his  performances 
in  his  own  field  of  labor,  ,and  those  I  had 
witnessed  in  his  native  place.  In  his  own 
pulpit  he  spoke  unawed  by  the  presence  of 
those  venerable  men,  among  whom  he  had 
spent  his  childhood  and  youth,  and  by  whom 
he  was  surrounded  when  holding  forth  the 
Word  of  Life,  in  his  father's  pulpit  in  Hart- 
ford. Although  there  was  never  wanting 
solemnity,  and  even  dignity,  yet  there  was 
now,  an  ease  and  freedom  of  manner,  arising 
from  the  feeling,  that,  to  his  own  people,  he 
was  indeed  the  ambassador  of  God,  to  nego- 
tiate with  them  on  the  high  concerns  of  judg- 
ment and  eternity." 


HIS  PREACHING. 


151 


Having  spoken  of  his  manner  in  tlie  pulpit, 
it  seems  proper  to  speak  of  the  matter  he  dis- 
pensed from  that  sacred  place.  Indeed,  the 
biography  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  would  be 
incomplete,  without  some  notice  of  that  which 
constituted  his  principal  work.  For  this,  the 
subject  of  this  memoir  had  made  no  superficial 
preparation.  He  had  devoted  four  years  to 
his  theological  studies,  and  had  availed  himself 
of  the  best  instruction  that  New  England 
afforded. 

When  he  settled  at  Plymouth,  although  he 
had  something  of  a  stock  of  sermons  on  hand, 
he  made  it  a  rule  to  write  one  new  one  every 
week.  This  he  averaged  during  the  brief 
period  of  his  ministry. 

His  texts  were  always  chosen  with  reference 
to  some  Christian  doctrine  or  duty,  and  were 
happily  adapted  to  the  truths  he  wished  to 
discuss  and  bring  before  his  people. 

His  sermons  were  all  carefully  studied,  fully 
written  out,  and  are  replete  with  evangelical 
truth.    They  were  neither  the  speculations  of 


152 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


the  learned,  nor  the  fancies  of  the  ingenious, 
but  were  "  earnest  and  faithful  exhibitions  of 
Christian  truth  and  duty."  Such  was  the  testi- 
mony of  one*  who  heard  him  for  several  conse- 
cutive Sabbaths,  soon  after  he  commenced 
preaching.  Another,  who  often  heard  him 
after  his  settlement  in  Plymouth,  said,  "He 
always  brings  his  sermons  right  up  out  of  the 
good  book." 

The  impressions  made  on  these  two  individ- 
uals, occujjying  different  positions  in  society, 
are  such  as  his  preaching  usually  made  on  all 
who  heard  him. 

His  preaching,  for  a  young  man,  took  a  very 
wide  range,  aiming  to  adapt  the  teachings  of 
the  Bible,  to  the  various  characters,  circumstan- 
ces, and  wants  of  his  hearers. 

He  had  no  hobby,  no  favorite  speculation  or 
theory  on  which  he  was  continually  dwelling, 
but  drawing  his  subjects  directly  from  the 
great  fountain  of  truth,  aimed  so  to  discuss 
them,  as  that  they  should  be  seen  to  be  the 

*  The  Hon.  Judge  Grennell,  of  Greenfield,  Massachusetts. 


HIS  PREACHING. 


153 


trutli  of  God,  and  not  tlie  feeble  deductions  of 
human  reason. 

In  this  way,  his  preaching  was  owned  and 
blessed  of  God,  to  the  accomplishment  of  the 
great  work  of  the  Christian  ministry,  the  con- 
viction and  conversion  of  sinners,  and  the 
edification  of  Christians  in  the  divine  life. 

As  he  approached  his  end,  with  the  prospect 
full  in  view,  of  soon  standing  before  the  Throne, 
how  did  the  anticipation  magnify  the  responsi- 
bility of  the  preacher's  work  ! — "  The  Gospel," 
— "  The  Gospel  in  its  simplicity" — "  This  and 
this  only,"  in  its  freedom  from  all  taint  of 
human  "  philosophy" — how  did  it  stand  forth 
in  that  solemn  hour,  as  the  alone  divinely 
appointed  "  means,  for  the  salvation  of  a  lost 
world,"  the  one  grand  theme  for  the  preacher, 
in  the  great  work  of  the  Christian  ministry. 
With  such  views,  and  in  such  circumstances, 
how  imperfect,  how  feeble,  in  his  own  estima- 
tion, did  his  past  attempts  in  preaching  that 
Gospel  then  appear. 

At  one  time,  near  the  close  of  his  ministry, 

8 


154 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


while  endeavoring  to  encourage  his  people  in 
greater  earnestness  in  Sabbath-school "  instruc- 
tion, his  mind  seemed  to  dart  forward  and 
catch  a  glimpse  of  those  glorious  rewards 
which  await  such  as  have  been  faithful  in  the 
work  of  saving  souls — when  he  broke  forth  in 
words  such  as  follow  : 

"  Oh,  how  do  all  earthly  rewards  dwindle 
into  insignificance,  compared  with  the  rewards 
which  await  those  who  have  been  instrumental 
in  saving  souls  from  death,  and  bringing  them 
unto  glory." 

And  what  are  those  rewards  ? 

"  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  fhe  bright- 
ness of  the  firmament,  and  they  that  turn  many 
to  righteousness  as  the  stars  forever  and  ever. 
Yea,  long  after  those  brilliant  orbs  have  faded 
and  disappeared,  they  shall  shine  forth  as  the 
sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father." 

May  we  not  regard  this  as  a  prophetic  inti- 
mation of  what  he  is  now  realizing  in  his  own 
happy  experience  ? 


CHAPTER  IX. 


LAST  VISIT  HOME  LAST  MEETING   AMONG  HIS 

PEOPLE. 

DuEiNG  the  third  week  in  June,  1860,  he 
attended  the  General  Association  of  Connecticut 
in  Kockville,  and  his  home  being  on  the  way, 
he  made  it  his  stopping  place  in  going  and 
returning. 

He  was  very  desirous  of  being  in  Hartford 
the  week  following,  that  he  might  have  the 
pleasure  of  listening  to  Professor  Hitchcock's 
address,  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Hartford 
Female  Seminary,  but  the  approaching  commu- 
nion and  preparatory  services,  in  his  own 
church,  required  that  he  should  be  at  home. 
On  taking  leave,  he  said  to  his  mother,  "  The 
Fourth  of  July  will  soon  be  here,  then  I  will 
run  home  and  spend  the  day  with  you." 

On  Tuesday  evening,  July  3d,  hje  was  at  his 


156  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

father's  table  in  Hartford,  in  free  and  pleasant 
converse  with  his  parents.  The  morning  of 
the  fourth  was  spent  in  making  calls,  when  he 
saw  an  unusual  number  of  his  own  and  his 
father's  friends,  not  only  in  their  homes,  but 
also  in  the  streets.  The  light,  beaming  counte- 
nance, the  elastic  step,  and  cheerful  salutation 
of  that  morning,  are  often  referred  to. 

After  dinner,  an  old  and  valued  friend, 
once  an  inmate  in  the  family,*  came  in,  and 
with  him,  the  subject  of  this  memoir  enjoyed 
a  couple  of  hours  of  rich  intercourse,  in  which 
he  drew  from  that  learned  biblical  scholar, 
much  to  aid  him  in  his  work. 

At  four  o'clock  he  again  walked  out,  and 
again,  as  in  the  morning,  saw  a  multitude  of 
friends.  It  seemed  as  if  every  one  who  had 
known  him  had  a  glimpse  of  his  countenance, 
and  a  smile  from  him,  on  that  last  day  when 
he  was  seen  in  the  streets  of  his  native  city. 

Shortly  after  tea  he  retired  to  his  chamber. 
After  he  had  been  there  some  time,  his  mother 

*  Dr.  Coleman. 


LAST    VISIT    HOME.  157 

having  sometliing  slie  wished  to  say  to  him, 
went  up,  and  on  finding  the  door  ajar,  entered 
without  the  usual  signal.  He  evidently  had 
not  noticed  her  entrance,  but  sat  with  closed 
eyes,  apparently  in  thoughtful  meditation.  His 
mother  approached,  remarking  that  she  saw  he 
was  busy,  and  she  would  not  interrupt  him. 
One  sweet  look  and  kind  response :  "  Yes,  mo- 
ther, I  am  busy  just  now,  I  am  preparing  my 
sermon  for  to-morrow  evening ;"  and  again  he 
relapsed  into  the  same  thoughtful  posture  as 
before ;  and  his  mother  left  him  in  deep  medi- 
tation on  the  subject  which  was  then  occupying 
his  thoughts.  The  sun  had  just  set,  and  the 
softened  light  as  it  fell  upon  those  placid  fea- 
tures revealed  in  them  a  striking  likeness  of 
earlier  days,  clothing  them  again  with  infantile 
loveliness.  Whenever  that  scene  occurs  to 
mind,  another*  is  always  associated  with  it, 
when  in  that  spot,  perhaps  that  very  chair, 
"those  soft  eyes,"  and  "that  upturned  coun- 


*  See  earlier  page. 


158  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

tenance"  plead  in  silent,  expressive  eloquence, 
an  interest  in  a  motlier's  prayers. 

On  Thursday  morning,  at  the  close  of  the 
family  devotions,  Erskine  seated  himself  di- 
rectly before  his  father,  and  commenced  laying 
open  his  plans  for  the  instruction  and  improve- 
ment of  his  people.  One,  a  favorite  one,  and 
the  last,  was  this :  to  prepare  a  series  of  expos- 
itory sermons,  from  incidents  in  the  Life  of 
Chi'ist ;  which  though  interesting  and  useful  to 
the  congregation,  assembled  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  Sabbath,  should  be  adapted  to  aid  in 
Sabbath-school  instruction.  The  sermons  were 
to  be  carefully  studied,  fully  written  out,  and 
enriched  with  such  prophetic  predictions  as 
should  find  their  fulfillment  in  the  portion 
under  consideration,  with  other  illustrations 
drawn  from  the  surrounding  scenery  and  cir- 
cumstances at  the  time.  His  father  entered 
with  great  interest  into  his  plan,  and  the  son 
with  dehghted  eagerness  drank  in  the  instruc- 
tion that  fell  from  his  lips.  At  the  close  of  the 
interview,  his  father  said :  "  My  son,  if  you  do 


LAST   VISIT  HOME. 


159 


this,  you  will  have  lived  to  accomplish  a  good 
work."  Whenever  that  scene  comes  back  in 
memory,  the  figure  that  rises  before  the  mind 
is  that  of  some  beautiful  flower,  opening  its 
petals  to  catch  the  morning  beams,  while  yet 
the  dew  is  glistening  in  its  cup. 

After  the  cheerful  "  good-bye,"  and  benedic- 
tion of  that  morning,  that  loved  voice  was 
never  again  heard  under  the  parental  roof. 

A  pile  of  sermon  paper,  separated  from  the 
rest,  and  divided  into  compartments,  each  of 
which  contained  the  usual  number  of  sheets 
for  a  sermon,  was  found  after  his  death  in  such 
circumstances  as  led  to  the  belief  that  it  was 
designed  for  the  contemplated  series.  But 
another  hand  was  destined  to  trace  other  lines 
across  those  sheets.  Another  sermon  was  to 
be  transcribed  there,  for  the  benefit  of  his 
people,  more  effective  than  any  which  could 
have  flowed  from  his  own  pen, — a  sermon, 
of  which,  he,  himself,  was  to  be  the  theme,* — 
an  embodiment,  as  it  were,  of  those  Gospel 

*  His  own  memoir  was  wi'itten  oa  that  paper. 


IGO  ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 

principles  so  faitlifally  set  foi'th  in  the  teach- 
ings of  their  youthful  pastor,  ])ut  now  more 
strikingly  illustrated  in  his  consistent  Christian 
life,  and  triumphant  death. 

That  pile  of  hlaitle,  sermons  ! — How  sugges- 
tive ! — was  there  any  premonition  in  the  mind 
of  him  who  placed  them  there,  that  his  work 
was  done  ?  Their  presence  there  seemed  to 
indicate  that  he  expected  to  live,  and  to  fill 
their  pages  with  useful  instruction  for  his  peo- 
ple,— and  yet  there  was  something  in  his  ap- 
pearance and  manner,  and  indeed  in  his  whole 
intercourse  with  his  parents,  during  that  last 
visit,  which  led  his  father  to  ask,  as  soon  as  his 
son  left  that  morning,  "Did  you  notice  any- 
thing unusual  in  Erskine  ? " 

"  I  did,"  was  the  reply. 

"He  was  not  melancholy?"  continued  the 
father. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  he  was  never  more 
truly  cheerful  and  happy  in  his  life." 

Was  there  not  then  a  beaming  forth  of  that 
higher  life  within,  which  was  so  soon  to  be 


LAST   VISIT  HOME. 


161 


fi'eed  from  its  earthly  surroundings,  and  to  find 
full  expansion  in  its  native  element  above. 
With  the  planning  of  those  sermons,  his  pulpit 
work  was  done. 

His  short  but  useful  ministry  is  aptly  set 
forth,  in  some  lines  suggested  by  the  reading 
of  the  memoir  of  his  sister.* 

"  Oh  !  not  by  hours,  or  full,  or  few, 

Our  gracious  Lord  the  toil  computes ; 
Some,  ere  exhales  the  morning  dew, 

At  mom  retire  with  sheaves  and  fruit. 
 And  thus  did  [he] 

Whose  work  

Was  planned,  commenced,  and  wrought,  while  we 

Beheld  it  only  as  begun." 

The  reader,  as  did  his  parents,  may  feel 
some  interest  in  knowing  what  was  the  subject 
which  so  absorbed  the  mind  of  the  youthful 
pastor,  on  that  last  evening  at  home.  The 
meeting  was  held,  but  that  subject  was  not  the 
theme.  The  evening  was  stormy,  and  but  few 
present,  and  therefore  that  subject  was  deferred 

until   .    Ah  !  for  how  long  ?  "  Until  the 

heavens  be  no  more,"  "  when  he  shall  awake 

*  Rev.  Wm.  B.  Tappan,  on  reading  the  Memoir  of  Mrs.  M.  E.  V.  L. 
8* 


162 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWE3. 


out  of  sleep"  to  meet  Ms  people, — not  a  few, 
on  a  stormy  evening,  in  that  little  Lecture- 
room — ^but  in  that  vast  assembly — every  one 
of  them  shall  be  there.  He  to  give  account 
how  he  preached,  and  they  to  give  account 
how  they  heard,  that  Gospel  which  will  now 
be  found .  to  have  been  "  a  savor  of  life  unto 
life  or  of  death  unto  death,"  to  every  one  of 
his  hearei-s. 

"The  scripture  selected  by  the  pastor  to 
speak  upon  that  evening,  was  a  portion  of  the 
11th  Chapter  of  the  Acts.  The  subject, 
'  Steadfastness  in  the  service  of  Christ.'  His 
remarks  were  more  brief  than  usual,  after 
which  he  sat  down,  sajdng,  '  Brethren,  the 
time  is  yours.'  The  meeting  then  took  a  con- 
versational turn,  the  pastor  and  all  the  breth- 
ren taking  a  part,  asking  questions,  and  giving 
answers.  Our  pastor  seemed  pleased  with  this, 
and  remained  in  the  desk,  protracting  the 
meeting,  quite  beyond  the  usual  hour.  Oh, 
had  we  suspected  this  was  to  be  our  last  meet- 
ing on   earth,  how  gladly  would  we  have 


THE   LAST   MEETING.  163 

remained,  '  even  until  the  break  of  day,'  as 
did  the  Elders  of  Ephesus  in  the  days  of  Paul, 
listening  to  the  sweet  and  precious  words  that 
fell  from  his  lips. 

"  In  closing,  he  read  the  following  hymn,  and 
after  looking  it  over,  said,  '  There  does  not 
seem  to  be  any  place  to  divide  it,  let  us  sing 
the  whole.'  It  seems  to  have  been  one  of  his 
favorites,  as  he  had  read  it  so  often  as  to 
attract  the  notice  of  myself  and  others.  It  is 
a  sweet  hymn,  and  the  associations  connected 
with  it  will  never  be  forgotten.  It  is  proba- 
bly familiar  to  you,  yet  I  wish  to  transcribe 
it  all. 

HYMN. 

(Temple  Melodies,  Hymn  92.) 
God  of  my  life,  througli  all  my  days, 
I'll  tune  the  grateful  notes  of  praise ; 
The  song  shall  -vyake  with  opening  light, 
And  warble  to  the  silent  night. 

When  anxious  cares  would  break  my  rest, 
And  griefs  would  tear  my  throbbing  breast, 
The  notes  of  praise  ascending  high 
Shall  check  the  murmur  and  the  sigh. 


164 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


"SVhen  death  o'er  nature  shall  prevail, 
And  all  the  powers  of  language  fail, 
Joy  through  my  swimming  eyes  shall  break. 
And  mean  the  thanks  I  cannot  speak. 

But,  oh  !  when  that  last  conflict's  o'er, 
And  I  am  chained  to  earth  no  more, 
With  what  glad  accents  shall  I  rise. 
To  join  the  music  of  the  skies. 

Then  shall  I  learn  the  exalted  strains, " 
That  echo  through  the  heavenly  plains. 
And  emulate,  with  joy  unknown. 

The  glowing  seraphs  round  the  throne. 

"  I  think  he  could  have  selected  nothing  more 
appropriate  just  before  his  entrance  through  the 
eternal  gate,  to  join  the  innumerable  company 
of  angels,  the  general  assembly  and  church  of 
the  first-born,  and  the  spirits  of  the  just  made 
perfect.  Farewell,  beloved  Pastor !  How- 
dear  thou  wast,  and  art  now  to  us  all !  Is 
there  not  very  much  to  comfort  you  in  the 
triumphant  death  of  such  a  son  ?* 

A  few  additional  remarks  made  by  the 
pastor  at  that  last  meeting,  seem  strikingly 

*  Communicated  by  one  wLo  was  then  present. 


THE   LAST  MEETING. 


165 


prophetic  of  the  change  but  just  before  him. 
"  He  talked  of  life  and  death,  of  Jesus  and 
of  Heaven.  How  well  do  I  remember  his 
tone,  and  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
as  he  said, '  Now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly, 
but  then  we  shall  know,  even  as  we  are 
known.'  "* 

We  have  now  carried  him  through  the  last 
evening  of  health  and  vigor  ;  the  next  found 
him  prostrate,  suffering  untold  agony,  from 
the  fell  blow  which  in  a  few  hours  severed 
him  from  life  and  friends  forever. 

*  Communicated  by  a  young  person  present. 


CHAPTER  X. 


FATAL  ACCIDENT — CLOSma  SCENES. 

On  Friday  morning  (the  6tli  of  July,  1860), 
the  subject  of  this  memoir  rose  and  addressed 
himself  to  the  duties  of  the  day  with  unusual 
alacrity  and  cheerfulness.  Having  finished  his 
preparation  for  the  Sabbath,  in  the  afternoon 
(as  was  his  wont)  he  took  his  accustomed  ride, 
connecting  with  it  a  call  on  one  of  his  most 
distant  parishioners.  The  ground  on  which 
the  house  stood  rose  somewhat  abruptly  from 
the  road,  and  the  only  level  spot  on  which  the 
horse  could  stand  was  just  in  front  of  some 
bars  which  secured  the  carriage  entrance  to  the 
back  yard.  On  alighting,  the  strap  was  buckled 
around  one  of  these  bars.  The  horse  had  re- 
cently manifested  a  propensity  to  pull  upon  his 
halter,  and  in  doing  so,  at  the  present  time, 


168  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

drew  out  the  bar  around  which  the  strap  was 
clasped.  He  was  then  unhitched  and  fastened 
to  the  gate-post.  The  ascent  here  was  abrupt, 
and  the  only  way  in  which  the  horse  could 
stand  was  nearly  on  a  parallel  with  the  fence, 
and  his  master  being  between  hiin  and  the  fence, 
was  obliged  to  pass  quite  around  him  in  reach- 
ing the  gate.  In  doing  this,  he  gave  the  ani- 
mal a  light  cut  with  the  riding-stick  on  the 
hind  legs,  merely  a  pat,  that  he  might  move 
out  of  the  way,  so  that  he  could  pass  to  the 
gate.  Quicker  than  thought,  the  feet  of  tKe 
animal  were  thrown  out,  but  he  was  sufficiently 
removed  from  those  to  escape  the  hoofs.  A 
sweep  across  the  lower  part  of  the  abdomen, 
with  the  gambrel  joint,  did  the  fatal  work. 
He  was  thrown  down  the  embankment  and 
rolled  over  into  the  road,  but  soon  rose  and 
walked  into  the  house.  The  male  members 
were  all  absent,  and  it  was  some  time  before 
any  one  of  them  could  be  found  and  a  physi- 
cian called.  At  first,  he  was  not  aware  of  the 
extent  of  the  injury,  but  soon  intense  internal 


FATAL  ACCIDENT. 


169 


agony  revealed  its  fatal  nature.*  Chloroform 
was  freely  administered  as  soon  as  possible,  but 
it  was  a  long  time  before  lie  could  be  brought 
under  its  influence,  so  as  to  experience  any  sen- 
sible relief  from  his  terrible  sufferings.  The 
thought  of  that  night  almost  paralyzes  the  hand 
that  holds  the  pen.  He  was  some  two  miles 
from  home, — and  some  hours  must  elapse  be- 
fore friends  could  reach  him  from  the  village. 
In  the  morning  he  was  so  far  relieved  as  to  be 
moved  home.  Laid  upon  his  own  bed,  fi^om 
which  he  could  look  into  his  pleasant  study, 
his  feelings  became  quite  cheerful,  and  deluded 
his  friends  into  the  belief  that  he  would  yet 
come  back  into  life,  and  again  perform  the  du- 
ties of  the  pastor  among  them.  Even  he,  him- 
self, had  this  hope.  He  requested  his  friends 
to  meet  and  return  thanks  for  his  preservation 
irom  instant  death.  The  message  to  his  parents 
contained  no  request  for  their  immediate  pres- 
ence, but  stated  that  they  should  be  kept  in- 

*  A  post  mortpm  examination  showed  tlmt  no  human  skill  could 
have  averted  the  fatal  issue. 


170  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

formed  of  his  situation,  and  requested  tliat  if 
possible  a  minister  might  be  sent  out  to  supply 
their  son's  pulpit.  It  was  Saturday.  The 
father  had  his  own  pulpit  to  supply,  and  as  there 
appeared  no  immediate  urgency,  he  thought  in 
the  circumstances  that  it  would  be  safe  to  wait 
until  Monday  morning.  In  the  mean  time  a 
messenger  could- be  sent,  if  necessary,  the  next 
day.  But  a  few  minutes,  however,  had  elapsed 
ere  the  mother  was  on  her  way,  and  in  a  couple 
of  houi-s  was  by  the  bed-side  of  her  son.  His 
voice  was  cheerful  as  he  welcomed  her;  but 
what  a  change  had  come  over  that  countenance, 
which,  as  it  were,  but  yesterday,  she  had  seen 
buoyant  with  health  and  beaming  with  cheer- 
fulness! Lest  her  son  should  perceive  the 
shock  which  his  appearance  had  given  her, 
cheering  herself,  she  said,  "My  son,  I  have 
come  to  stay  with  you  until,  you  are  well 
enough  to  be  taken  home."  The  quick  re- 
sponse was,  "  This  is  my  home ;  I  shan't  leave 
here." 

Immediately  the  friend  who  was  by  him, 


FATAL  ACCIDENT. 


171 


commenced  telling  his  mother  how  the  thing 
had  happened.  Her  son  had  thought  she  might 

ask  him,  and  had  requested  Mr,  L  to  do  it 

for  him.  He  commenced,  saying,  "  Mr.  Hawes 
says  he  don't  know  how  he  happened  to  do 
that,  he  had  never  done  it  before,"  alluding  to 
the  stroke  with  the  riding-stick.  And  well  he 
might  have  said  this,  as  from  his  childhood  he 
had  been  remarkable  for  his  caution.  The  how 
was  the  last  thing  in  that  mother's  mind  then . 
The  thing  was  done, — the  fatal  result  was  but 
too  visible.  But  however  painful  the  circum- 
stances, not  one.  of  these  had  taken  place  inde- 
pendently of  an  all-wise  and  overruling  Prov- 
idence. 

As  the  family  physician  was  not  at  hand, 
another  was  taken  in  during  the  hasty  ride  to 
the  cars,  and  the  person  who  should  bring  him 
to  Hartford  in  the  morning,  could  take  back 
the  father,  if  necessary. 

On  their  arrival  at  the  scene  of  suffering, 
the  attending  physician  came  in.  Having 
spent  a  few  moments  with  the  patient,  the  two 


172 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


retired  to  the  study.  On  entering  this,  the 
one  from  Hartford  remarked,  "  What  a  pleasant 
study,  this  is.  It  looks  as  if  it  could  write  a 
sennon  itself  I  feel  as  if  I  could  almost  write 
a  sermon  here."     The  patient  immediately 

called  out  in  a  clear,  cheerful  voice,  "  Dr.  , 

I  wish  you  would  write  a  sermon,  and  stay 
an  d  preach  it  to  my  people  to-morrow."  There 
was  something  so  natural,  so  like  perfect 
health  in  the  tone  and  accent  of  the  voice, 
that  the  pleasing  illusion  stole  over  the  mind, 
"  he  will  yet  live,  he  will  not  die  now."  But 
before  another  sun  had  set,  .that  voice  was 
forever  hushed  in  death.  Even  the  attending 
physician,  although  gi*eatly  fearing  a  fatal 
issue,  was  evidently  not  anticipating  so  speedy 
a  one.  The  patient  was  so  calm,  so  comfort- 
able, and  even  cheerfiil,  that  it  was  thought 
there  could  be  no  internal  injury  sufficient  of 
itself  to  cause  death.  The  thing  most  feared, 
and  to  be  guarded  against,  was  the  inflammatory 
process;  a  few  days  would  decide  the  case. 
At  the  doctor's  suggestion,  a'  competent  nurse 


HIS  SUFFERINGS. 


173 


was  secured  for  a  few  days,  and  a  skillful 
watcher  for  tlie  night. 

Everything  being  arranged,  and  the  state  of 
the  patient  seeming  so  comfortable,  he  was 
left  with  the  watcher,  and  his  mother  retired 
to  her  room,  but  soon  a  note  of  distress  drew 
her  to  his  bedside,  and  although  all  the  means 
and  appliances  that  medical  skill  could  devise 
were  faithfully  used,  yet  it  was  near  morning 
before  the  poor  sufferer  was  in  any  sense  re- 
lieved. 

Not  a  murmur  escaped  his  lips.  Not  a 
regret  for  anything  that  had  taken  place.  Only 
once  did  he  express  a  wish  that  anything  was 
different.  From  the  first,  his  thoughts  had 
often  reverted,  as  it  was  natural  they  should, 
to  his  Hartford  physician.  Once  during  the 
night,  when  his  mother  and  the  watcher  hav- 
ing used  all  the  prescribed  remedies  and  appli- 
ances without  producing  any  sensible  diminu- 
tion of  the  terrible  agony,  the  watcher  having 
gone  to  procure  something  needed  ;  he  said  to 
his  mother,  "  I  wish  Dr.    was  here,  he 


174  ERSKINB   J,  HAWES. 


would  surely  think  of  something  to  relieve 
this  pain."  As  he  was  able  to  speak,  he  would 
suggest  with  great  calmness  and  judgment 
what  should  be  done.  But  the  dry,  husky 
breathing,  the  impeded  utterance,  a^nd  fatal 
hiccough  whenever  he  attempted  to  swallow, 
were  but  too  sure  indications  that  death  was 
doing  its  work.  He  spoke  once  of  the  night 
preceding ;  said  to  his  mother, "  he  never  knew 
what  pain  was  till  then." 

Towards  morning  the  sufferer  slept — if  that 
state  of  partial  unconsciousness  in  which  he 
lay  couM  have  been  called  sleep. 

His  mother  retired  for  a  short  time  to  her 
room.  When  she  returned,  she  found  her  son 
partially  raised  up  in  the  bed,  supported,  by 
pillows.  He  had  arranged  to  be  got  up,  and 
had  ordered  clean  changes  to  be  brought  in. 
As  his  mother  entered,  he  said,  "  I  shall  be  got 
uj)  and  changed  soon."  She  approached  the 
bed,  and  taking  his  hand,  said,  "  My  son,  I 
think  you  cannot  be  got  up  to-day."  The 
doctor  followed  and  reiterated  the  same,  cOs  he 


CLOSING  SCENES. 


1Y5 


looked  upon  the  pale  visage,  and  heard  the 
weak  voice  of  the  patient.  He  gently  bowed 
his  head  in  assent,  and  then  called  the  atten- 
tion of  his  mother  to  the  perspiration  which 
was  covering  him.  Alluding  to  this,  he  said, 
"  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  good  plainly- 
intimating  that  he  more  than  suspected  the 
nature  of  the  symptom.  The  agony  had  sub- 
sided, but  it  was  doubtless  owing  to  the  fact, 
that  vitality  had  ceased  in  the  wounded  part. 
The  pulse  was  fast  vanishing.  Eestoratives 
were  given,  but  the  difficulty  of  swallowing 
on  account  of  the  hiccough,  prevented  his 
receiving  much  into  the  system.  Great  anxiety 
was  manifested  by  the  physician  and  others, 
for  the  ari'ival  of  the  father.  No  telegraph 
offices  were  open,  and  there  was  no  hope  that 
the  patient  could  survive  until  the  messenger, 
who  was  on  his  way  to  Hartford  with  the  phy- 
sician, should  return. 

The  moisture  which  covered  him,  became 
cold  and  clammy.  Stimulants  failed  to  raise 
the  feeble  pulse.    No  efforts  could  restore 


176  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


warmth.     Everytliing  indicated    the  hasty- 
strides  with  which  death  was  approaching. 

It  is  impossible  to  recall,  with  anything  like 
accuracy,  the  order  in  which  the  painful  events 
occurred,  as  also  the  last  rema^'ks,  exhortations, 
and  messages,  of  the  youthful  dying  pastor, 
during  those  last  brief  hours  into  which  so  ^ 
much  of  effort,  and  anxiety,  and  suffering  were 
crowded.  But  whenever  ^the  scene  occurs,  one 
fact  rises  before  the  mind, — ^the  anxiety  and 
efforts  of  the  attending  physician,  to  preserve 
vitality  in  the  dying  patient  until  the  arrival 
of  his  father.  How  often  his  watch  was  con- 
sulted, and  also  the  pulse  of  the  patient,  as 
one  stimulant  after  another,  or  some  nutritious 
restorative  was  gently  given,  as  the  dying  one 
could  take  them  in  ! 

It  was  past  the  hour  of  noon.  The  painful 
intelligence  had  spread  over  the  village. 
Friends  were  gathering.  He  asked  for  his 
brother  ministers  in  the  neighborhood.  Some- 
were  then  present.  Among  these,  was  one 
whom  he  •  loved  as  a  brother,  the  Rev.  Mr. 


CLOSING  SCENES. 


177 


Monteith.  Shocked  by  the  state  in  which  he 
found  his  friend,  and  overcome  by  his  emotions, 
he  wept.  Erskine  asked  him  to  pray  with 
him.  He  knelt  by  the  bedside,  and  with 
great  earnestness  and  much  feeling,  com- 
mended his  dying  friend  to  the  Saviour,  in 
this,  his  conflict  with  the  last  enemy.  From 
this  prayer,  the  dying  one  took  in,  what  had 
not  been  intimated  to  him  in  words,  that  death 
was  near.  Immediately  he  asked,  "  Would  it 
be  wrong  for  me  to  ask  you  to  pray  for  my 
life?"  "  Certainly  not,"  said  his  mother.  Then 
he  said,  "  Will  some  of  you  retire  and  do  so  ?" 
As  a  few  were  leaving  the  room  for  this  pur- 
pose, he  raised  his  voice,  and  said  in  a  clear 
and  emphatic  tone,  "  I  want  to  live,  that  I 
may  glorify  God  better  in  my  ministry — I 
want  to  live  for  my  people — I  want  to  live  for 
my  parents." 

Few  and  broken  were  the  petitions  offered. 
God  was  signifying  his  will  so  plainly,  that  it 
seemed  to  be  asking  for  a  miracle,  to  ask  for 
his  life.    When  the  few  returned  to  the  room, 
9 


178  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

lie  was  alone  with  his  friend  Monteith,  and  was 
repeating  a  stanza  in  the  hymn  commencing : 

"  Rock  of  Ages  cleft  for  me." 

There  was  a  momentary  silence,  when  his  mo- 
ther repeated  the  last  stanza  entire,  to  which 
he  listened  with  pleased  and  earnest  attention. 

"  While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyelids  close  in  death, 
When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown. 
And  behold  Thee  on  thy  thi-one, 
Rock  of  Ages !  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee ! " 

Mr.  Monteith  has  kindly  furnished  the  sub- 
stance of  the  conversation  between  himself  and 
his  dying  friend  at  this  time.  He  says :  "After 
the  others  had  left  the  room,  I  waited  a  little 
to  see  if  he  would  try  to  listen  to  the  prayers, 
but  finding  him  a  little  agitated,  I  said,  you 
have  perfect  confidence  in  the  '  Eock  of  Ages  ?' 
'O,  yes,'  said  he,  and  added:  '-Cleft  for  me' 

"He  seemed  a  little  troubled  for  breath, 
and  so  I  began  each  line,  and  he  finished,  with 
the  exception  of  the  last  two,  which  he  repeated 


CLOSING  SCENES. 


179 


alone  with  evident  satisfaction.  '  Be  of  sin  the 
perfect  cure — ^perfect  cure,'  said  he — 'perfect 
cure.    How  blessed  that  is.' 

"  He  had  hardly  let  go  my  hand  since  the 
first.  Now  he  grasped  it  firmly,  and  said, '  Oh ! 
Monteith,  remember  it, — understand  that  I  say 
it  from  this  bed, —  we  ministers  have  not 
preached  the  Gospel  in  its  simplicity.  There 
has  been  my  error.  I  want  you  to  understand 
it  that  I  say  it  from  this  bed : — Ihe  Gospel  is 
Go(Fs  appointed  means  for  the  salvation  of  the 
soul — philosophy  wonH  do  it.''  I  will  just  say, 
here,  that  I  never  had  words  addressed  to  me 
with  such  emphasis, — they  seemed  to  come 
from  the  other  world. 

"I'said  to  him,  'our  hope  is  secure,  for  it  is 
an  anchor  to  the  soul,  and  it  entereth  into  that 
within  the  veil,  whither  Jesus  our  forerunner 
hath  gone.' 

" '  Ah ! '  he  replied, '  that  is  not  all, — it  is  sure 
and  steadfast;'' — and  he  repeated  this  phrase 
several  times. 

"  About  this  time,  I  think.  Dr.  Salisbury  felt 


180        ■      ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

his  pulse,  and  said  in  a  solemn  tone :  '  Mr. 
Hawes,  your  time  is  short, — your  race  is  almost 
run.'  He  looked  at  Dr.  S.  with  an  eye  steadfast, 
and  that  gave  evidence  of  a  momentary  strug- 
gle, and  then  his  face  was  as  bright  as  an 
angel's.  A  change  in  the  activity  of  his  mind, 
as  well  as  in  his  conversation,  had  been  appa- 
rent for  some  time.  Now  his  mother  asked 
him  if  he  had  any  messages  to  leave  for  his 
father.  '  O,  tell  father  that  I  love  him.  Ask 
him  to  forgive  me  for  all  the  hasty  words  I 
have  spoken ;  you  know  I  love  you,  dear  mo- 
ther, and  always  have.' " 

The  following  notices  are  by  another  hand. 

"  While  he  was  saying  these  things,  he  had 
leaned  partly  over  to  his  mother,  and  was  hold- 
ing his  chest,  as  if  the  emotions  within  were 
greater  than  he  could  bear.  When  laid  back 
upon  the  pillow,  looking  upward,  he  said,  'Z 
want  to  see  father.^ 

"  Now  the  doctor  wanted  him  to  take  some 
wine.  His  mother,  to  encom-age  him  in  his 
effort  to  swallow  it,  and  in  her  anxiety  to  pre- 


CLOSING   SCENES.  181 

serve  vitality  till  his  father  should  arrive,  said, 
'  The  last  you  took  told  perceptibly  on  your 
pulse.'  Taking  her  hand  in  his,  and  looking 
her  earnestly  in  the  face,  he  said,  '  Mother,  I 
don't  want  you  to  do  anything  to  infringe  on 
the  purposes  of  God.' 

"  He  called  for  brother  Averill  and  brother 
Tracy,  and  they  were  sent  for.  When  the 
Kev,  Mr.  Averill  came  in,  he  asked  him  to 
pray  that  thi'i  might  be  sanctified  to  his  people 
and  his  parents ;  and  that  the  latter  might  be 
supported  under  it. 

"  As  Mr.  Averill  closed,  in  a  very  fervent  and 
solemn  manner,  he  uttered  the  following  peti- 
tion :  '  I  pray  God  will  accompany  the  truth 
that  has  been  dispensed  here  for  the  last  three 
years  with  his  Holy  Spirit ;  that  it  may  be 
effectual  in  the  conversion  of  those  to  whom  it 
was  administered.' 

"A  petition  that  he  offered  previous  to  this, 
and  soon  after  it  was  told  him  that  he  could 
not  live,  was  an  exceedingly  impressive  one : 

"  '  I  pray  God  that  this  may  be  blessed  to 


182 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


the  salvation  of  every  member  of  this  fam- 

"  The  family  where  he  boarded  had  been  ex- 
ceedingly kind  to  him.  They  had  made  him  as 
comfortable  as  he  could  have  been  in  his 
father's  house.  But  they  were  none  of  them 
professors  of  religion.  He  felt  a  very  deep 
interest  in  their  spiritual  welfare,  had  often 
spoken  of  their  kindness  to  him,  to  his  mother, 
and  now  this  last  petition  for  them,  went  up 
to  the  mercy-seat,  accompanied  with  his  whole 
heart. 

"  It  became  necessary  for  his  mother  to  resign 
her  position  for  a  short  time  at  his  bedside,  in 
order  that  something  might  be  done  for  him, 
by  stronger  hands  than  hers.  She  placed  her- 
self at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  so  as  not  to  lose 
sight  of  his  countenance.  Soon  his  eyes  met 
hers.  Fixing  them  full  upon  her,  with  a  look 
of  indescribable  benignity  and  affection,  he 
said,  '  Mother,  I  want  you  to  forgive  me,  and 
I  want  you  to  ask  father  to  forgive  me,  for  all 
the  pain  I  have  occasioned  you,  for  all  my 


CLOSING  SCENES. 


183 


hasty  words.'  His  mother,  replied, '  You  have 
been  a  good  son,  there  is  nothing  to-  forgive, 
but  if  you  think  there  is  anything,  you  are 
freely  forgiven.'  How  everything  earthly 
seemed  annihilated  in  that  moment.  The 
mother  stood  alone  with  her  son,  the  last  tri- 
bunal but  just  before  them — she  felt  that  all 
must  be  settled  up  now.  '  My  son,'  she  said, '  I 
am  reminded  that  I  may  have  something  to 
ask  of  you ;  and  now  I  will  ask  you  to  forgive 
me  all  my  unfaithfulness — all  my  imperfections, 
in  your  Christian  training.'  After  saying  some 
kind  things  in  reply,  her  son  continued,  '  we 
all  have  great  imperfections,  great  sins,  but  the 
"  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin," 
the  righteousness  of  Christ  is  sufficient  for  us 
all ;  here  I  rest,  here  is  my  hope ;  the  right- 
eousness of  Christ  imputed  to  us.  Imputed, 
that  is  a  good  word,  I  like  it.'  There  was  a 
meaning  in  this  last  expression,  which  those 
by,  who  may  have  heard  it,  could  not  take  in. 
The  doctrine  of  imputation  had  been  discussed 
with  much  interest,  by  Erskine  and  his  father. 


184  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

and  it  was  doubtless  in  reference  to  conversa- 
tions on  tliis  subject,  when  his  mother  had 
taken  a  part,  that  her  son  now  said,  '  Imputed, 
that  is  a  good  word,  I  like  it.' 

"  Changing  the  theme,  he  said, '  Mother^  you 
and  father  have  often  been  in  the  furnace,  but 
I  want  you  to  feel  that  I  am  one  with  you.'  Here 
followed  some  tender  remarks  respecting  the 
fellowship  of  Christians  in  suffering,  with  a  refer- 
ence to  lighten  the  affliction  coming  upon  his 
parents,  by  an  assurance  that  he  was  enduring 
in  anticipation,  what  they  would  suffer  when 
he  should  be  gone. 

"  Here,  to  give  a  different  direction  to  his 
thoughts,  his  mother  said,  '  My  son,  you  are 
the  Lord's,  we  gave  you  to  Him.' 

" '  Yes,'  said  he,  '  and  how  blessed  it  is  to 
be  the  Lord's.' 

"  The  crowd  of  friends  that  had  gathered, 
had  thronged  around  his  bed.  His  mother 
was  unable  to  find  a  place  there.  His  friend 
Monteith  stood  between  her  and  her  son. 
Catching  the  eager  inquh-y, '  What  is  that  pas- 


CLOSING  SCENES. 


185 


sage,  "  We  are  come  unto  the  city  of  the  liv- 
ing God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem," '  his  mother 
asked  for  a  Bible.  One  was  handed  her.  She 
opened  to  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Hebrews, 
and  read, '  For  ye  are  not  come  unto  the  mount.' 
'  Not  there,'  he  said,  '  farther  on.'  He  then 
said  something  which  indicated  haste,  which 
his  mother  did  not  distinctly  hear,  in  her 
eagerness  to  catch  the  right  passage,  but  which 
those  who  stood  nearest  him  said  was, '  Hurry 
on  to  the  Prospects.' 

"  The  last  syllables  were  passing  his  lips,  as 
she  commenced,  '  But  ye  are  come  unto  Mount 
Zion.' 

"'There,'  said  he,  'that's  it.'  He  then 
took  it  up  and  finished  it  himself. 

"  Hebrews  xii.  22-24, '  But  ye  are  come  unto 
Mount  Zion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living 
God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  to  an  innumera- 
ble company  of  angels,  to  the  general  assembly 
and  church  of  the  first-born,  which  are  written 
in  heaven,  to  God  the  Judge  of  all,  to  the 

spirits  of  the  just,  made  perfect,  to  Jesus,  the 
9* 


186 


ERSKINB   J.  HAWES. 


Mediator  of  the  new  covenant,  to  the  blood  of 
sprinkling  ' 

"  Such  were  the  last  utterances  from  lips 
about  to  be  sealed  in  death  (rather  in  a  more 
abstract  form,  than  as  quoted  above)  and  from 
the  lips  of  one,  who,  as  we  trust,  was  about  to 
be  introduced  to  that  glorious  assembly. 

"  The  doctor  called  for  more  air.  The  crowd 
dispersed.  Only  his  mother,  the  physician, 
and  one  or  two  friends  were  left  in  the  room. 
Instantly  he  sprang  forward  in  the  bed,  and 
throwing  out  his  arms  on  either  side,  and  look- 
ing earnestly  around,  but  with  an  expression 
which  indicated  that  he  saw  nothing  within 
the  range  of  his  vision,  exclaimed,  '  I  want  to 
get  up,  I  want  to  look  about.'  The  doctor's 
arms  were  instantly  around  him.  '  Mr.  Hawes, 
we  will  raise  you  up  in  the  bed,  you  can  sit 
up  and  look  around  here.'  Pillows  were  placed, 
his  head  fell  forward  upon  his  breast.  "WTien 
laid  back  upon  the  pillows  his  eyes  were  set, 
and  all  appeared  motionless,  as  if  death  had 
already  done  its  last  work.    But,  not  so.  The 


HIS  DEATH. 


187 


'dying  strife'  had  but  just  commenced.  The 
first  groan  sent  his  mother  backward  a  little 
space ;  but  soon  recovering  herself,  she  was 
again  by  the  bed  of  death.  Every  breath  was 
now  a  groan — and  the  fearful  sound  was  heard 
distinctly  for  some  distance  without.  As  soon 
as  his  mother  had  sufficiently  recovered  herself, 
she  lifted  the  covering  from  his  arm,  which  lay 
motionless  by  his  side.  It  was  livid  and  cold. 
Perceiving  the  fingers  to  curl  slightly,  as  if 
cramped,  she  took  the  hand  in  hers,  and  at- 
tempted to  straighten  and  warm  it.  Immedi- 
ately he  raised  it,  and  commenced  rubbing  his 
breast.  His  mother  now  did  this  for  him  ; 
but  whenever  she  ceased  for  an  instant,  in 
order  to  take  a  dry  part  of  the  cloth  she  was 
using,  for  the  perspiration  was  profuse,  he  im- 
mediately raised  his  own  hand  and  continued 
the  rubbing  until  she  commenced  again.  He 
would  then  lay  his  hand  down  as  intelligently 
as  in  health.  Thinking  he  might  possibly 
hear,  his  mother  repeated  portions  of  Scripture : 
only  one  is  remembered.    Taking  the  lead 


188  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

from  his  utterances,  she  repeated,  '  They  have 
washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb.' 

"  At  length,  nature  worn  out  and  exhausted, 
the  painful  groans  ceased.  The  breath  became 
soft  as  an  infant's.  Then  the  purling  sound 
of  the  purple  current  within,  and  one  soft  rush 
of  breath,  gave  note  that  the  deathless  tenant 
had  escaped  its  clayey  tenement,  and  all  was 
repose. 

"  Those  eyes  out  of  which  he  had  looked  so 
lovingly,  on  parents  and  friends,  and  through 
which  so  much  of  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of 
these  lower  works  of  God  had  entered,  to 
gladden  and  to  adorn  the  immortal  mind 
within,  and  those  lips,  through  which  so  much 
of  God's  saving  truth  had  been  proclaimed  to 
dying  men,  now  sealed  and  rayless  in  death, 
were  closed  by  loving  hands. 

" '  So  he  giveth  his  beloved  sleep.' " 

The  next  view  his  mother  had  of  him,  he 
was  sleeping  peacefully  in  the  centre  of  that 


HIS  DEATH. 


189 


"  pleasant  study,"  on  the  table  at  which  he  had 
daily  sat  and  meditated  on  those  solemn  and 
weighty  truths,  of  which  he  was  now  experi- 
encing the  reality.  Only  the  Sabbath  previous, 
his  theme  had  been,  "The  Transfiguration." 
Was  he  not  now  beholding  that  glorious  vision 
realized  ?  Not  as  then,  dimly  shadowed  forth 
to  the  eye  of  faith,  but  amidst  the  ineffable 
brightness  of  heaven. 

There  he  lay,  so  calm,  so  peaceful,  as  if  he 
were  only  "  taking  of  rest  in  sleep."  "  Lord,  if 
he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well."  Could  not  this 
have  been  said  of  the  sleeper  there,  with  a 
deeper  meaning,  than  when  uttered  by  the 
disciples  to  their  Master,  respecting  one  whom 
he  loved  !  It  is  matter  of  grateful  recognition 
to  the  mother  of  the  deceased,  that,  that  last 
looh,  always  takes  precedence  of  the  painful 
one  at  the  same  hour  of  the  afternoon  previous, 
whenever  her  mind  turns  to  the  death  of  her 
son, 

A  veil  must  be  drawn  over  the  scene  on  the 
arrival  of  the  father.     Doctors  Knight  and 


190  BRSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

Salisbury  were  there  to  receive  him,  but  human 
sympathy  was  powerless  then.  Having  assisted 
him  into  the  house,  they  seated  themselves  in 
silence  by  his  side.  That  most  appropriate 
and  expressive  act  was  appreciated,  and  after- 
wards spoken  of,  by  the  stricken  father.  The 
following  morning  his  parents  returned  to  their 
home  in  Hartford. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  funeral  services 
should  be  attended  in  the  church  at  Plymouth, 
on  the  Tuesday  following, — and  the  same  in 
his  father's  church  in  Hartford,  on  Wednesday 
morning. 

On  Tuesday  evening,  at  six  o'clock,  his  re- 
mains were  brought  home  to  his  father's  house 
in  Hartford,  accompanied  by  the  delegation 
fi-om  his  father's  church,  who  had  attended  the 
funeral  obsequies  in  Plpnouth,  and  also  a  few 
of  the  Plymouth  people,  among  whom  was  his 
friend  Monteith. 

Another  hand  than  the  writer's  could  better 
describe  those  funeral  solemnities  in  that 
church,  where  the  deceased  lay,  on  the  very 


HIS  FUNERAL. 


191 


spot  wtere  twelve  years  before  lie  had  stood, 
and  in  the  freshness  and  vigor  of  youth,  had 
devoted  himself  in  solemn  covenant  to  God; 
and  just  beneath  the  font,  with  whose  baptis- 
mal waters,  his  parents,  in  early  infancy,  had 
done  for  him  the*  same. 

A  large  delegation  of  the  church  in  Plymouth 
were  present,  and  mingled  their  sympathies 
with  the  parents  and  friends  of  their  youthful, 
deceased  pastor. 

Addresses  were  made  by  the  ministers  with 
whom  he  had  associated  in  Plymouth  and  vi- 
cinity, amoug  whom  were  his  friend  Mr.  Mon- 
teith,  Eev.  Mr.  Averill,  and  Mr.  Tracy.  Mr. 
Webber,  also,  pastor  of  the  North  Church,  in 
Hartford,  and  who  had  known  him  in  the  The- 
ological Seminary  in  Andover,  gave  a  very 
pleasant  tribute  to  his  memory. 

The  prayers,  the  hymns,  the  music,  were  of 
the  most  appropriate  character.  The  first  hymn, 

"  Peace,  'tis  the  Lord  Jehovah's  hand," 

had  often  soothed  the  father's  grief,  as  one 


192  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

after  another  of  his  children  had  been  taken 
from  him ;  and  now  it  appropriately  came  in 
as  a  healing  balm  for  the  last  wound  of  the 
kind  he  was  ever  to  receive. 
The  last  hymn : 

"  Hear  what  the  voice  from  heaven  proclaims, 
For  all  the  pious  dead," 

seemed  but  the  utterance  of  Apocalyptic  bene- 
diction, "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the 
Lord." 

A  select  company  of  his  young  friends  in 
the  ministry  gently  laid  him  down  in  his  last 
resting-place  ;  then  a  few  members  of  the  choir 
of  his  father's  church,  with  whose  voices  his 
own  had  often  united,  sung  that  beautiful  and 
appropriate  him  of  Tappan's : 

"  There  is  an  hour  of  peaceful  rest." 

After  which,  the  Kev.  Mr.  Spring,  of  East 
Hartford,  said  a  few  consoling  words,  and  of- 
fered a  brief  prayer  over  the  open  grave,  and 
the  precious  dust  was  closed  from  sight, — but 
not  forever.    "  It  shall  rise  again  in  the  resur- 


ADDRESS. 


193 


rection  at  the  last  day."  Bursting  the  cere- 
ments of  the  grave,  it  shall  come  forth,  not  as 
now,  subject  to  decay  and  death,  but  purified 
from  everything  earthly,  and  "made  like  to 
C  hrist's  glorious  body." 

ADDRESS  BY  THE  REV.  DR.  SPRESTG. 

It  would  appear  to  be  more  in  the  course  of 
nature  that  the  aged,  who  had  finished  their 
work,  should  precede,  on  their  way  to  the 
grave,  the  young  and  vigorous  who  have  ap- 
parently many  years  of  activity  and  usefulness 
yet  before  them.  And  such  a  fact  corresponds 
with  our  experience.  And  when  we  find  it 
otherwise,  when  the  young  die  before  the  old, 
and  disperse  all  the  hopes  which  had  gathered 
about  their  early  yeai^,  as  we  ask  for  some 
solution  of  the  problem,  we  are  reconciled  to 
the  disappointment  only  by  the  reflection  that 
there  are  wise  and  good  reasons,  perhaps  yet 
to  be  disclosed,  for  the  perplexing  anomaly. 

If  we  enter  a  grove  where  trees  are  standing 
of  every  variety  of  age,  and  beauty,  and  use, 


194  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

we  are  not  surprised  to  see  the  aged  and  full- 
grown  that  have  long  kept  their  place,  and 
have  blessed  whole  generations  with  their 
shade  and  fruit,  cut  down  and  removed,  that 
place  may  be  given  to  plants  of  promise  whose 
fertility  and  beauty  are  yet  to  adorn  the  en- 
closure. It  is  the  ordinance  of  a  wise  and  good 
Providence,  They  have  accomplished  their 
destiny,  and  there  is  nothing  in  the  arrange- 
ment that  excites  surprise.  But  when  the  axe 
is  laid  to  the  root  of  a  young  and  beautiful 
tree  of  whose  growth  and  maturity  the  most 
pleasing  anticipations  had  been  formed,  we  are 
perplexed,  and  we  wonder  what  ruthless  de- 
stroyer has  been  there.  We  feel  like  grieving 
and  complaining  over  the  work  of  desolation. 
But  our  perplexity  is  at  once  relieved  when 
we  are  told  that  the  Proprietor  has  ordered 
the  removal,  and  especially  if  he  has  trans- 
planted the  favorite  to  adorn  his  own  personal 
residence,  where  its  beauty  and  promise  shall 
be  to  his  lasting  honor  and  gratification. 

So  in  the  removal — untimely,  as  we  are 


ADDRESS. 


195 


prone  to  estimate  things — of  the  beloved  youth 
whose  remains  we  now  consign  to  the  grave, 
all  our  surprise  is  checked  by  the  remembrance 
that  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard  has  been  here. 
This  transfer  has  not  been  made  without  his 
direction.  What  though  the  tree  under  whose 
shadow  a  Church  and  Congregation  would  have 
sat  with  great  delight  and  whose  fruit  would 
have  been  sweet  to  their  taste,  shall  bloom  no 
more  on  earth,  it  is  but  transplanted  to  the 
Paradise  of  God  to  flourish  in  immortal  frag- 
rance there. 

We  are  "  dumb  and  open  not  our  mouth, 
Kppnnsp  tlion  O  TiOrd.  hast  done  it." 


CHAPTER  XI. 


BEIEF  NOTICE   OF  FIRST  MEETING    BY    HIS  BE- 
REAVED PEOPLE  LETTERS  OF  CONDOLENCE  

EXTRACT  OF  REPORT  OF  CHURCH  SERMONS. 

Many  touching  notices  of  the  church  pi'ayer- 
meeting  on  the  evening  of  the  day  succeeding 
his  burial,  were  sent  to  the  parents  of  the  de- 
ceased jDastor,  by  the  members  of  his  church. 
One  writes: 

"I  have  just  returned  from  our  Thursday 
evening  prayer-meeting.  One  short  week  ago, 
our  pastor  was  with  us  in  our  little  lecture- 
room;  but  how  changed  was  everything  to- 
night !  Our  steps  echoed  as  we  walked  along 
the  lonely  aisle,  and  how  heavy  were  our  hearts. 
The  bell  commenced  ringing — I  cannot  tell  you 
the  feelings  of  that  moment.  Our  pastor  always 
used  to  step  in  before  it  ceased.  Then  we  all 
sat  and  waited, — waited  for  what  ?    We  knew  • 


198  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

too  well  that  lie  never  more  would  cross  that 
threshold, — never  more  would  look  round 
upon  us  with  beaming  countenance,  as  he  was 
wont,  when  stepping  into  his  accustomed 
seat, — never  more  would  read  to  us  from  that 
sacred  volume  which  lay  unopened  on  the 
desk,  never  more  would  feed  our  souls  with 
heavenly  manna. 

"  When  the  hymn  was  read  all  were  too  much 
overcome  to  sing, — we  were  wont  to  hear  such 
a  sweet  voice  strike  off  at  once.  Now  all  was 
silent.  At  the  close  of  our  sad  meeting,  there 
was  no  one  to  pronounce  the  benediction  over 
our  heads,  unless,  indeed,  our  glorified  pastor 
looked  down  in  pity  from  his  bright  abode 
and  blessed  us  ere  we  parted."    *    *  * 

The  fourth  Sabbath  after  his  death  was  a 
memorable  one  to  that  church  and  people. 

Kesolutions,  expressive  of  their  submission 
to  the  divine  will  in  this  trying  dispensation, 
also  of  the  deep  sense  of  their  loss,  and  their 
high  appreciation  of  the  character  and  labors 
of  their  pastor  while  with  them,  concluding 


BRIEF  NOTICES. 


199 


with  an  appropriate  and  tender  testimonial  to 
bis  memory,  were  presented  "to  tlie  whole 
churcli  and  congregation  assembled  on  that 
Sabbath."  A  letter  from  the  parents  of  the 
deceased  was  read,  and  a  hymn  on  the  death 
of  the  I'ighteous,  by  Montgomery,  was  sung  by 
voices  with  which  his  own  had  often  mingled : 


HYMN.    (664,  Chapel  Hymns.) 

Thi8  place  is  holy  ground ; 

World,  with  thy  cares,  away  ! 
Silence  and  darkness  reign  around. 
But  lo  !  the  break  of  day : 
What  bright  and  sudden  dawn  appears 
To  shine  upon  this  scene^of  tears ! 

Behold  the  bed  of  death, — 

This  pale  and  lovely  clay ! 
Heard  ye  the  sob  of  parting  breath  ! 
Marked  ye  the  eyes'  last  ray  ! — 
No  ! — life  so  sweetly  ceased  to  be, 
It  lapsed  in  immortality. 


Could  tears  revive  the  dead, 

Elvers  should  swell  our  eyes ; 
Could  sighs  recall  the  spirit  fled, 
We  would  not  quench  our  sighs. 
Till  love  relume  this  altered  mien, 
And  all  the  embodied  soul  were  seen. 


200 


ERSKINE  J. 


H  AWES. 


Bury  the  dead  and  weep, 

In  stillness  o'er  the  loss ; 
Bury  the  dead — in  Christ  they  sleep, 
Who  bore  on  earth  his  cross, 

And,  from  the  grave,  their  dust  shall  rise 
In  his  own  imago  to  the  skies. 

One  who  was  present  said,  "  It  seemed  like 
attending  his  funeral  over  again." 

In  the  afternoon,  a  sermon  on  Home  Mis- 
sions was  read.  The  young  pastor  had  finished 
it  just  before  taking  that  fatal  ride,  and  had 
expected  to  preach  it  on  the  coming  Sabbath ; 
and  as  he  regarded  the  subject  as  one  of  par- 
amount importance,  he  had  taken  great  pains 
in  its  preparation.  The  circumstances  in  which 
it  was  presented  to  the  people,  doubtless  con- 
tributed much  to  the  effect  produced.  The 
collection  taken  up  was  much  larger  than  ever 
before  for  the  same  object. 

The  heavy  draping  was  kept  upon  the 
church,  with  its  motto  wrought  in  white  silk, 
in  front  of  the  pulpit,  for  nearly  two  months  : 

"  He  being  dead,  yet  speaketb." 

Before  its  removal,  the  following  impromptu 


LETTERS    OF  CONDOLENCE. 


201 


lines  were  foutid  in  church,  written  on  the 
blank  leaf  of  a  psalm-book : 

Why  should  tliese  sable  curtains  hang 

Around  this  house  of  prayer  ? 
No  gloom  is  resting  o'er  his  grave, 

No  shadow  lingers  there. 

No  funeral  badges  hang  around 

His  home  in  heavenly  light ; 
We  know  his  ransomed  soul  is  clad 

In  robes  of  purest  white. 

'Twas  but  the  prison  walls  that  fell 

Beneath  death's  mighty  stroke, 
Why  should  we  mourn  for  one  released 

From  earth's  oppressive  yoke? 

Why  should  we  grieve  that  one  prepared 

Has  entered  into  rest  ? 
Why  should  we  weep  for  one  who  leans 

Upon  the  Saviour's  breast? 

A  letter  of  sympathy,  wi-itten  by  the  sub- 
ject of  this  memoir,  to  a  friend  in  affliction, 
was  returned  to  the  mother  of  the  deceased 
eight  years  after  it  was  written,  with  the  fol- 
lowing note : 

"  Dear  Madam, 

"  I  cannot  but  call  to  mind,  that  while 

your  honored  and  loved  son  was  with  us,  he 
10 


202  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


early  learned  to  sorrow  with  the  afflicted.  A 
letter  of  condolence  from  his  pen,  dated  Ando- 
ver,  November  2d,  1852,  now  lies  before  me. 
May  not  the  words  of  the  sou  fitly  come  back 
to  comfort  the  parents,  now  that  they  are 
bowed  in  grief  at  his  loss  !"    It  read  thus: 

"  Dear  H  ,  I  regretted,  exceedingly,  that 

I  could  not  tarry  in  Hartford,  to  mingle  my 
grief  with  yours,  and  drop  a  tear  of  sympathy 
over  the  remains  of  our  dear  departed  friend ; 
but  I  rejoice  to  think  that  you  can  resort  to  a 
far  better  source  of  consolation  than  mei-e  hu- 
manity can  afibrd, — to  him,  who,  when  on 
earth,  wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  whose 
watchful  eye  in  heaven  numbers  every  silent 
tear.  You  are  not  left  to  sorrow  as  those  with- 
out hope,  but  you  may  expect  at  some  future 
day  to  sing  the  glories  of  the  Lamb,  with  him 
whose  voice  you  will  no  more  hear  on  earth. 
How  delightful,  too,  and  how  illustrative  of  the 
sufficiency  of  the  Christian's  support  in  death, 
that  the  departed  one  so  calmly  entered  the 
dark  valley,  in  the  unclouded  use  of  reason, 


LETTERS    OF    CONDOLENCE.  203 

and  with  songs  of  praises*  on  his  lips.  I  have 
often,  of  late,  repeated  to  myself  those  beau- 
tiful lines  in  the  Village  Hymns : 

Before  we  quite  forsake  our  clay, 

Or  leave  this  dark  abode, 
The  wings  of  love  bear  us  away 

To  see  our  smiling  God. 

We  cannot  tell  what  visions  of  glory  the  dying 
Christian  may  behold,  just  as  the  thread  of 
life  is  parting,  and  the  curtain  is  being  lifted, 
which  separates  the  unseen  from  the  seen. 

"  But  while  we  delight  to  follow  the  spirits 
of  our  departed  friends,  in  our  conceptions,  to 
the  world  of  light,  we  should  not  forget  to 
learn  the  salutary  lesson  of  our  own  frailty. 

"How  solemn  the  admonition  falling  from 
the  lips  of  the  living  with  almost  prophetic 
force,  and  now  from  his  silent  tomb :  '  Be  ye 
therefore  ready  also,  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye 
think  not,  the  son  of  man  cometh.'f 

*  "Sing,  sing,"  he  said;  but  voices  of  friends  were  choked  with 
grief,  when  he  conamenced  a  favorite  hymn,  and  sung  till  his  voice 
was  lost  in  death. 

\  Lesson  for  his  class  in  Sabbath-school,  when  he  was  in  health 
on  Sabbath  morn,  and  on  Wednesday  naorning,  following,  was  no 
longer  here. 


204 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


"  I  can  scarcely  restrain  a  tear  when  I  recur 
to  the  pleasant  scenes  of  last  smnmer,  those 
mutual  communings  with  nature  in  all  her 
loveliness  and  silent  grandeur,  in  which  it  was 
our  delight,  but,  now,  our  melancholy  pleasure 
to  have  participated ;  but  viewing  the  matter 
in  another  light,  there  is,  if  not  cause  for  joy, 
yet  reason  for  consolation.  He  is  now  no 
longer  witnessing  the  ever-fading  scenes  of 
earth,  but  the  constant,  unfolding  glories  of 
heaven.  He  has  done  with  earth, — its  pains, 
its  sorrows,  and  its  sins, — and  has  been  admit- 
ted, as  we  trust,  to  'the  innumerable  company 
of  saints  and  angels ; '  and  what  is  more,  to  the 
joy  of  God^s  immediate  presence.  Here  let  us 
leave  him,  hoping,  ourselves,  at  some  future 
day,  to  be  accounted  worthy,  through  the 
merits  of  the  Lamb,  of  the  same  blessedness. 

"  With  kindest  sympathy,  I  am  very  sin- 
cerely yours,  E.  J.  Hawes." 

From  Mr.  W.  B.  Capron,  long  associated 
with  the  deceased  on  terms  of  intimacy,  first 


LETTERS    OF    CONDOLENCE.  205 


in  his  father's  house,  at  Hartford,  then  in  the 
high-school,  and  last  at  Andover. 

From  his  far  distant  home  in  India,  he 
writes  to  the  mother  of  the  deceased : 

"I  have  been  dwelling  upon  the  circumstances 
connected  with  your  bereavement,  which  should 
bring  you  consolation.  But  my  mind  runs  back 
to  the  years  of  my  acquaintance  with  Erskine  ; 
and  yours  will  run  back,  no  doubt,  to  the  years 
of  his  youth  and  his  childhood.  It  is  a  great 
blessing  to  you  to  have  received  such  a  treas- 
ure from  the  Lord,  for  so  many  years,  and  with 
so  few  drawbacks ;  and  while  you  will  love  to 
linger  upon  the  evidence  of  his  growth  in 
grace,  and  his  active  usefulness  during  the 
years  that  he  labored  in  the  ministry,  I  am 
sure  you  will  take  scarcely  less  pleasure  in  re- 
membering his  fidelity  in  study,  and  in  his 
duties  as  a  teacher,  his  diligence,  his  self-dis- 
trust and  yet  real  ability,  his  excellent  taste, 
his  skill  in  music,  in  composition,  in  mechan- 
ics also,'  his  sociability,  his  kindness, — in  fact, 
his   well-balanced   mind,   and  well-balanced 


206 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


heart,  which  you  saw  iu  him,  and  saw  to  be 
appreciated  by  others. 

"  I  remember  the  years  of  my  acquaintance 
with  him,  with  great  pleasure,  and  have  been 
instructed  and  reproved,  while  my  heart  has 
been  touched  by  this  story  of  his  last  hours." 

The  following  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gulliver, 
of  Norwich,  is  a  very  graphic  and  truthful  de- 
lineation of  traits,  which  friends  who  best 
knew  him,  have  often  seen  in  him : 

"  At  Rockville,*  your  son  sat  for  some  hours 
opposite  me  in  church,  and  my  eye  rested  on 
him  for  a  long  while,  attracted  by  the  pecu- 
liarly earnest,  tender,  I  may  say,  beautiful  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance.  I  thought  how 
wonderful  it  was  that  one  accustomed  to  such 
a  position  from  his  childhood,  accustomed  to 
see  his  father  a  leader  in  the  church  and 
among  the  churches,  should  be  so  modest  and 
retiring,  so  ready  to  hear  rather  than  to  talk, 
so  much  more  inclined  to  do,  than  to  direct. 

*  At  the  General  Association  of  Connecticut,  a  few  weeks  pre- 
ceding his  death. 


LETTERS    OF  CONDOLENCE. 


207 


How  little  did  we  think  that  those  lovely  qual- 
ities were  so  soon  to  adorn  the  circles  about 
the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb !  and  that 
that  sweet  spirit  was  to  find  society  and  sym- 
pathy among  the  angels  of  Grod  !  But  so  it  is. 
And  there  is  a  more  delightful  thought  still, 
that  now  the  young  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved 
is  leaning  his  head  upon  the  Saviour's  breast, 
and  with  his  missionary  sister,  now  walks  with 
him  in  white.  I  cannot  fully  and  only  condole 
with  you,  that  such  children  have  gone  before 
you  to  welcome  you  to  heaven.  I  must  also 
bless  God  that  he  has  given  you  such  children, 
and  congratulate  you  that  you  have  been  able 
to  give  them  first  to  the  church,  and  then  to 
heaven." 

The  following  is  from  a  respected  friend  of 
the  father  of  the  deceased, — a  man  of  position 
and  influence  in  society : 

"  I  can  never  forget  (in  my  own  somewhat 
similar  bereavement)  the  very  delicate,  unex- 
pected sympathy  I  received  from  your  be- 
loved son.    Such  was  his  modest  and  gentle- 


208 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


manly  bearing, — rsuch  the  refinement  and 
sympathy  of  bis  character, — as  the  result  of 
his  fine  education  and  training, — and  all  this 
adorned  with  a  sweet  and  unaffected  savor  of 
piety,  that  he  was  ray  decided  choice  for  our 
late  vacant  church.  But  God,  in  infinite  wis- 
dom, has  transferred  him  to  higher  and  nobler 
service  in  His  upper  temple." 

The  following  from  the  Rev,  Professor  Fitch, 
of  New  Haven,  strikingly  illustrates  the  affec- 
tionate sympathy  which  he  awakened  in 
friends  towards  himself  while  living,  and  which 
his  premature  removal  called  forth  towards  his 
sti'icken  parents. 

"  I  remember  your  earlier  griefs  over  Louisa* 
and  Thomas,  long  since  put  to  rest  in  their  lit- 
tle graves.  And  Mary,  so  long  a  light  and 
joy  in  both  our  households,  whom  we  gave 
away  as  the  bride  of  a  missionary  to  an  East- 
ern land,  who  has  long  since  laid  her  to  rest, 
near  the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus.  But  Erskine 
remained.  We  have  followed  him  in  his  course 


*  "  Louisa,  My  First-born  :" — S.  S.  Union. 


LETTERS    OF  CONDOLENCE. 


209 


of  studies  and  preparation.  We  have  seen  him 
welcomed  to  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel.  He 
was  testifying  to  the  love  of  Jesus  before  a 
people  appreciating  his  ministry.  We  saw  in 
him,  we  trusted,  a  friend  to  survive  us  in  our 
old  age,  and  bear  our  memory  with  him  to 
another  generation.  It  seems  but  yesterday 
he  passed  a  day  with  us  in  our  family,  cheeripg 
us  with  his  society,  and  receiving  joyfully  our 
counsels  and  the  '  God  speed  thee'  of  our 
hearts.  And  is  he  gone  ?  Erskine,  very  dear 
wast  thou  to  our  hearts.  Your  Lord  and  Sav- 
iour knew  better  what  to  do  with  you  and  for 
you  than  we.  In  His  hands  we  leave  you  in 
submission  and  hope." 

"Rev.  De.  and  Mes.  Hawes. 
"  My  dear  Friends  : 

"  The  following  lines  were  penned  after 
reading  Dr.  Tyng's  account  of  the  last  hours  of 
your  son,  in  the  '  Independent,'  and  after 
hearing  a  sermon  preached  by  my  faithful 
pastor,  Rev.  Mr.  Thurston,  of  Fall  River,-  al- 
io* 


210  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


ludiug  to  the  same  event,  and  particularly  to 
those  thrilling  words : 

'HURRY  ON  TO  THE  PROSPECTS.' 

"  Hasten  mother,  onward  hasten  ! 

Soon  my  soul  from  earth  must  part ; 
Tell  me  of  those  glorious  prospects 
Which  await  the  pure  in  heart. 

"  Hasten,  mother,  onward  hasten  ! 
Fast  my  life  doth  fainter  grow ; 
Tell  me  of  that  heavenly  fountain, 
Whence  the  stream  of  life  doth  flow. 

"  Hasten,  mother !  onward  hasten ! 
Hear  I  now  those  songs  of  praise. 
Sweetest  music  heard  in  heaven, 
Music  which  the  ransomed  raise. 

"  Hasten,  mother !  hasten  quickly  ! 
Tell  me  of  the  sprinkling  blood, — 
Tell  me  of  Celestial  Mansions, — 
City  of  the  Living  God ! 

"  Edward  Buffinton. 

Fall  Eker,  Mass.^'' 

Extract  from  the  Annual  Report  of  the  Centre  Church, 
Hartford,  for  the  year  1860. 

"But  we  cannot  forbear  alluding  to  one, 
whose  sudden  and  untimely  death  sent  a  thrill 
of  sorrow  through  the  city  of  his  birth,  and 


EXTRACT. 


211 


filled  this  house  to  overflowing  with  sympa- 
thizing and  weeping  mourners. 

"Kev.  Erskine  J.  Hawes  was  well  known 
among  us.  He  was  loved  and  esteemed  by  all. 
None  uttered  a  syllable  against  his  character. 
Even  in  his  youth  he  was  of  singular  purity, 
sincerity,  obedience,  and  discretion.  We 
watched  him  with  anxious  interest  as  he 
passed  into  manhood.  In  college,  and  in  the 
theological  seminary,  he  maintained  the  same 
consistency  of  character,  and  came  out  at 
length  fully  equipped  for  the  arduous  duties 
of  the  profession  which  he  had  chosen.  He 
added  to  a  vigorous  mind  and  sound  judgment 
the  acquirements  of  a  ripe  scholarship.  Thus 
accoutred  he  went  forth  with  quiet  courage, 
to  make  conquests  for  Jehovah.  And  how 
manfully  and  successfully  he  continued  the 
warfare  against  Satan's  kingdom,  let  his  brief 
ministry  at  Plymouth  answer.  Here  he  began 
a  career  of  extended  usefulness,  and  rapidly 
developed  in  mind  and  heart.  He  became 
prominent  in  advocating  public  reforms,  and 


212 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


was  already  heginning,  in  no  small  degree,  to 
mould  the  public  sentiment  in  the  town  to 
which  the  Providence  of  God  had  called  him. 
As  a  preacher,  his  aim  was  more  and  more  to 
set  forth  '  Christ  and  Him  crucified..'  As  a 
pastor,  he  endeared  himself  greatly  to  all  the 
members  of  his  flock.  Already,  in  the  short 
space  of  two  and  a  half  years,  more  than  fifty 
had  renounced  the  world,  and  enrolled  them- 
selv^es  under  the  banner  of  Jesus.  But  sud- 
denly the  stroke  fell !  Oh,  the  blighting  of 
fond  hopes,  the  sundering  of  tender  ties,  the 
grief  of  whole  communities,  the  abrupt  ending 
of  a  useful  life,  the  going  out  of  a  star  in  the 
heavens !  The  going  out  ?  Ah,  no !  It  set  be- 
hind our  sky,  only  to  glow  with  more  eflfulgent 
radiance  in  the  galaxy  of  heaven  ! 

"  But  it  is  well.  Revelation  and  reason  con- 
spire to  teach  us  that  it  is  well,  when  the 
Christian  dies.  Our  brother  has,  indeed,  gone 
from  our  sight ;  he  has  '  hurried  on  to  the 
prospects:'  but  he  has  left  with  us  'the  treas- 
ures of  [his]  well-spent  life,'  the  fruits  of  his 


EXTRACT. 


213 


short  but  successful  ministry,  and  the  fragrant 
memories  of  his  triumphant  death.  And  we 
will  say  of  him,  and  of  the  other  loved  ones, 
whose  graves  are  still  fresh  among  us, — 

"  With  us  their  names  shall  live 
Through  long  succeeding  years ; 
Embalmed  with  all  our  hearts  can  give, 
Our  praises  and  our  tears." 


CONSOLATION  IN  AFFLICTION. 


DBLIVBRED    IN   THE    FIRST   CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH,  IN  HARTFORD,  JOLT 
15,  1860,  BEING  THE  SABBATH  AFTER  THE  INTERMENT  OF  THE 
REV.  E.  J.  HAWES,  PASTOR  OF  THE  FIRST  CONGREGA- 
TIONAL CHURCH,  IN  PLYMOnTH,  CONN., 

By    J.    HiVWBS,    T).    I>  . 


DISCOURSE. 


"  For  as  the  sufferings  of  Christ  abound  in  us,  so  our  consolation  also 
aboundeth  by  Christ."— 2  Corinthians  i.  5. 

The  sufferings  referred  to  in  the  text  were 
such  as  Paul  and  his  associates  in  the  ministry 
were  called  to  endure  for  Christ's  sake,  or  in 
seeking  to  promote  his  cause  in  the  salvation 
of  men.  They  arose  from  the  opposition  and 
hatred  of  enemies,  and  from  persecution,  trial, 
and  want.  These  the  Apostle  had  to  encounter 
in  large  measure,  and  in  various  forms,  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  ministry.  But  in  propor- 
tion as  he  suffered  for  Christ,  his  consolation 
abounded  through  Christ ;  the  one  was  set 
over  against  the  other,  or  rather  the  one  was 
far  more  al)undant  than  the  other ;  and  all,  as 
he  tells  us  in  the  verses  following  our  text, 
redounded  to  the  glory  of  Christ  and  the  com- 


218  ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


fort  and  edification  of  those  to  whom  he  minis- 
tered. Whether  we  be  afflicted,  he  says,  it  is 
for  your  consolation  and  salvation  which  is  ef- 
fectual in  the  enduring  of  the  same  sufferings 
which  we  also  suffer,  or  whether  we  be  com- 
forted, it  is  for  your  consolation  and  salvation. 
And  our  hope  of  you  is  steadfast,  knowing 
that  as  ye  are  partakers  of  the  sufferings,  so 
shall  ye  be  also  of  the  consolation. 

But  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  discuss  the  sub- 
ject suggested  in  the  text  in  this  its  broad  and 
general  character,  but  to  confine  my  remarks 
to  the  sufferings  which  come  to  us  in  the  form 
of  bereavement  in  the  loss  of  near  and  loved 
friends  by  death.  In  this  view  let  me  invite 
you  to  consider  with  me,  on  the  present  oc- 
casion, some  of  the  sources  of  consolation  open 
to  us  under  the  bereavements  and  trials  of 
life. 

It  will  at  once  occur  to  you,  my  friends,  that 
the  scenes  of  the  past  week  have  forced  this 
subject  on  my  attention.  It  occupied  my 
thoughts,  indeed,  while  on  my  lonely  way  last 


DISCOURSE. 


219 


Sabbath  afternoon,  to  the  house,  which  was 
even  then,  though  unknown  to  me,  a  house 
of  mourning.  And  since  my  return,  with  all 
the  sad  mementoes  of  death  and  the  grave 
pressing  on  my  mind,  I  have  scarcely  been  able 
to  turn  my  thoughts  to  any  other  subject  than 
that  suggested  by  our  text  as  the  theme  of 
present  meditation.  I  shall  not,  of  course,  con- 
sider it  in  special  application  to  myself,  thus 
obtruding  my  own  personal  sorrows  upon  pub- 
lic notice  ;  but  I  shall  endeavor  to  set  it  before 
you  in  its  general  aspect  and  bearing,  in  the 
hope  that  you  may  be  the  better  prepared  for 
bereavements  and  trials  when  they  shall  come 
upon  you.  And  come  they  will,  in  one  form 
or  another,  to  all  whom  I  now  address.  There 
is  no  exemption.  Affliction  and  sorrow  are 
the  lot  of  all  that  dwell  in  the  flesh.  We  are 
born  to  trouble  as  the  sparks  fly  upward ;  and 
sooner  or  later  the  bitter  cup  is  passed  round 
and  pressed  to  the  lips  of  all  living.  Some 
individuals,  indeed,  and  some  families,  seem 
almost  an  exception, — they  have  lived  so  long 


220 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


witli  nothing  to  interrupt  the  steady  flow  of 
prosperity  or  break  in  upon  the  circle  of  do- 
mestic happiness.  But  such  cases  are  rare ; 
and  I  have  long  since  learned  to  look  upon 
them,  when  they  occur,  with  painful  apprehen- 
sion. I  know  the  tide  must  turn,  and  when 
the  stream  begins  to  flow  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion, it  is  common,  as  I  have  observed,  for  wave 
after  wave  to  roll  in,  in  quick  succession, 
breaking  up  long-cherished  connections  and 
sundering  long-endeared  ties.  Trials,  it  has 
often  been  remarked,  seldom  come  alone. 
They  frequently  tread  quick  upon  each  other, 
as  in  the  case  of  Job,  and  none  are  more  likely 
to  be  visited  with  this  experience  than  those 
w^hose  sun  has  long  shone  brightly  upon  them, 
and  few  if  any  clouds  have  passed  over  their 
path.  But  however  this  may  be,  it  certainly 
becomes  us  all,  in  a  world  like  this,  to  remem- 
ber the  days  of  darkness,  for  they  will  be  many. 
And  when  or  how  soon  they  will  throw  their 
shades  around  us,  we  cannot  tell.  The  bright- 
est prospects  may  be  suddenly  overcast,  and 


DISCOURSE. 


221 


our  dearest  earthly  enjoyments  may  be  swept 
away  in  an  hour,  and  in  a  manner  entirely  un- 
expected by  us.  Trials  lie  hidden  along  every 
pathway  in  life,  and  they  often  come  upon  us 
when  we  least  think  of  them,  and  in  a  form  to 
stir  the  deepest  sensibilities  of  the  soul.  In- 
deed, it  is  like  God  to  conceal  the  hand  that 
moves  the  mighty  wheels  of  his  providence, 
and  to  strike  in  a  manner  to  make  himself 
regarded.  He  gives  none  account  of  his  ways, 
and  often  his  bereaving  stroke  falls  as  lightning 
from  a  clear  sky,  giving  no  warning  till  the 
work  on  which  it  was  commissioned  is  done. 
A  father,  a  mother  is  suddenly  smitten  down ; 
a  husband,  a  wife  is  snatched  away ;  a  loved 
child  of  many  hopes  and  many  prayers  is  hur- 
ried from  the  stage  of  life  in  the  midst  of  his 
days  and  his  usefulness;  and  the  whole  story 
of  the  sad  event  is  told  in  one  word, — he  is 
gone.  So  the  fashion,  the  pageant  of  this 
world  passeth  away.  Nothing  permanent,  no- 
thing fixed  and  certain.  We  know  not  what 
a  day  may  bring  forth.    We  only  know  that 


222 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


we  live  in  a  world  of  trial  and  change ;  tliat 
our  fairest  prospects  may  suddenly  be  dark- 
ened and  from  the  enjoyment  of  large  happi- 
ness and  long-unbroken  prosperity,  we  may  in 
a  moment  be  summoned  to  the  sorest  bereave- 
ments and  the  bitterest  sorrow. 

Exposed  thus,  as  we  all  are,  to  these  sad  re- 
verses, to  these  sinkings  in  the  deep  waters  of 
adversity,  how  important  that  we  should  all 
know,  while  yet  the  ways  are  smooth,  and  no 
dark  cloud  appears  in  the  horizon,  what  sources 
of  consolation  and  support  are  provided  for  us 
to  which  we  may  resort  when  days  of  bereave- 
ment and  trial  shall  come.  To  point  out  to 
you  some  of  these  is  what  I  shall  now  attempt : 

1.  The  great  fact  which  underlies  all  that  I 
have  to  say  on  this  subject,  and  essential  in- 
deed to  all  true  consolation  under  the  afflic- 
tions and  trials  of  life,  is,  that  an  all-wise  and 
benevolent  Providence  presides  over  the  affairs 
of  men  and  regulates  all  the  events  of  time. 
Without  the  recognition  of  such  a  Providence 
this  would,  indeed,  be  a  dark  world, — all  given 


DISCOURSE. 


223 


over  to  chance ;  no  plan,  no  wise  purpose  con- 
trolling the  course  of  events,  and  no  presiding 
power  to  direct  them  to  benevolent  results. 
But,  blessed  be  God,  it  is  not  in  such  a  world 
that  we  live.  Much  as  there  is  in  it  that  is 
dark  and  mysterious  to  us  short-sighted  mor- 
tals, the  great  truth  stands  before  us  in  the 
clear  sunlight  of  God's  word, — the  Lord  reign- 
eth,  and  true  and  just  are  all  his  ways.  His 
providence,  bearing  the  impress  of  his  own 
perfections,  is  infinitely  wise,  benevolent,  pow- 
erful and  good  ;  and  it  extends  to  all  creatures 
and  all  events.  It  is  universal,  taking  in  the 
whole  creation;  it  is  also  particular,  directing 
the  falling  of  a  sparrow  and  numbering  the 
hairs  of  our  head.  And  it  is  a  providence 
which  never  errs,  which  never  fails,  but  always 
does  just  that,  and  only  that,  which  is  wisest 
and  best ;  best  adapted  to  show  forth  the  glory 
of  God  and  promote  the  highest  good  of  them 
that  confide  in  Him,  and  are  owned  as  the 
children  of  his  love.  Sustained  by  this  blessed 
truth,  we  may  lift  up  our  hands  and  our  hearts, 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


amid  the  darkest  and  most  trying  circum- 
stances in  which  we  can  be  placed, — and  ex- 
claim,— The  Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  my 
rock,  and  let  the  God  of  my  salvation  be 
exalted.  There  is  a  light  above  the  cloud 
that  now  seems  so  dark  and  heavy :  soon  the 
light  will  break  through  the  cloud,  and  it  will 
pass  away,  and  all  will  be  cleared  up  and  made 
plain.  This  remains  an  unfailing,  ever-enduring 
source  of  consolation  in  any  situation  in  which 
we  can  be  placed.  Nor  is  it  any  deduction 
from  the  all-sufficiency  of  this  precious  source  of 
support  that  the  providence  of  God  is  a  deep 
unfathomable  to  us ;  that  it  is  often  wrapped  in 
darkness,  and  subjects  us  to  trials  which  seem 
wholly  mysterious,  which  we  cannot  explain, 
and  which  we  sometimes  feel  we  cannot  bear, 
God  governs  for  the  universe,  and  He  governs 
for  eternity.  It  is  of  necessity,  therefore,  that 
his  ways  in  our  view  must  often  be  in  the 
great  deep,  and  his  footsteps  not  known.  We 
can  see  but  little  of  that  vast  plan  which 
God,  in  the  dispensations  of  his  providence, 


DISCOURSE. 


225 


is  executing  for  his  own  glory  and  tlie  best 
good  of  them  that  love  Him.  Enough  is 
known  to  lay  a  perfect  foundation  of  trust  and 
hope.  We  have  only  to  wait  a  little,  leaning 
on  the  arm  and  confiding  in  the  love  of  an 
ever-present  and  all-perfect  God,  and  soon  all 
will  be  made  plain.  What  we  know  not  now 
we  shall  know  hereafter ;  and  it  will,  I  doubt 
not,  be  a  part  of  our  delightful  employment  in 
heaven,  inspiring  us  with  ever  new  gratitude 
and  praise,  to  study  the  evolvings  of  God's 
providence  towards  us  in  this  world,  and  the 
means  he  saw  fit  to  use  to  fit  us  for  his  service 
on  earth,  and  for  the  everlasting  enjoyment  of 
his  presence  in  heaven. 

2.  It  is  another  source  of  consolation  under 
bereavement  and  trial,  to  reflect  that  they  are 
a  necessary  part  of  the  discipline  of  life ;  the 
appointed  and  the  essential  means  of  develop- 
ing character  and  fitting  the  soul  for  a  higher 
and  happier  state  of  being.  If  man  were  in 
his  primeval  state  of  innocency,  as  in  paradise, 

he  might  not  need  the  discipline  of  adversity 
11 

I 


226       ^         ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

and  sorrow  to  keep  him  near  to  God,  in  obed- 
ience to  his  will,  and  in  growing  fitness  for  his 
presence  and  glory.  It  might  then  be  safe  for 
him  to  enjoy  uninterrupted  happiness,  as  it  is 
for  the  angels  and  for  the  redeemed  in  heaven ! 
But  man  is  no  longer  in  innocency ;  he  is  in  a 
fallen,  sinful  state ;  we  all  partake  of  the  effects 
of  the  apostacy,  and  are  inclined  from  our  ear- 
liest days  to  forget  and  forsake  God,  and  to 
choose  the  vain  things  of  earth  and  time  as  our 
portion,  to  the  neglect  of  the  great  interests  of 
the  soul  and  eternity.  This  is  the  malady,  the 
moral  malady  of  our  entire  race.  Nor  is  it 
wholly  removed  by  that  change  of  heart  which 
brings  us  to  repentance  and  to  Christ  our  Sav- 
iour. Far  from  it.  The  disease  of  sin,  in  some 
of  its  many  forms  and  workings,  still  cleaves 
to  us,  and  the  discipline  of  sufifering  seems  ne- 
cessary to  carry  on  the  process  of  cure  and 
to  effect  our  entire  restoration  to  spiritual 
health  and  fitness  for  the  kingdom  and  service 
of  God.  And  this,  we  are  abundantly  taught, 
is  one  great  end  designed  to  be  accomplished 


DISCOURSE. 


227 


in  us  by  the  afflictions  and  trials  of  life.  And 
they  seem  absolutely  necessary  to  this  end. 
We  can  none  of  us  bear  uninterrupted  pros- 
perity. It  is  not  safe  for  us.  The  discipline 
of  unbroken  comfort,  if  1  may  so  speak,  is  too 
soft  and  tender  for  such  indocile,  self-willed 
creatures  as  we  are.  It  acts  unfavorably  and 
hurtfully  on  our  higher,  spiritual  interests.  It 
tends  to  form  a  hard,  unsympathizing,  selfish 
and  worldly  character.  "  It  is,"  says  Evans, 
"  upon  the  smooth  ice  we  slip ;  the  rough  path 
is  safest  for  our  feet.  The  tearless,  undimmed 
eye  is  not  to  be  coveted  here, — that  is  reserved 
for  heaven."  We  need  trials  now,  afflictions, 
sorrows,  many  and  of  various  kinds,  to  keep  us 
in  our  place ;  to  make  us  what  we  should  be, 
and  to  educate  and  train  us  up  for  a  higher 
state  of  being  hereafter.  Our  Father  in  heaven 
knows  this,  and,  therefore,  in  paternal  love  and 
faithfulness,  he  subjects  his  people  to  the  dis- 
cipline of  suffering;  he  casts  them  into  the 
furnace ;  bereaves  them  of  theii-  loved  ones ; 
lays  his  hand  heavily  upon  them,  and  all,  that 


228  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


He  may  purify  them,  draw  them  nearer  to 
Himself,  and  make  tliem  larger  partakei-s  of 
his  holiness  and  of  the  joys  of  his  salv^ation. 
And  it  surely  is  a  great  source  of  consolation 
in  our  bereavements  to  know  that  God  is  de- 
signing our  good  by  them.  And  good  they 
will  certainly  do  us  if  we  receive  them  in  a 
Christian  manner.  They  are  adapted  and  in- 
tended to  stir  the  deep  sensibilities  of  the  soul, 
to  show  us  our  weakness  and  our  dependence"; 
to  draw  forth  our  purer  and  better  affections ; 
to  inspire  us  with  tenderer  and  more  active 
sympathies ;  to  engage  us  in  a  closer  walk  with 
God,  and  to  make  us  more  like  our  blessed 
Saviour,  of  whom  it  is  testified,  that  even  he 
was  made  perfect  by  suffering, — that  is,  a  com- 
plete Saviour,  suited  in  all  respects  to  our  char- 
acter and  wants, — made  such  by  the  things  he 
endured  while  here  in  the  flesh  as  our  elder 
brother.  And  how  interesting  to  hear  it  said 
of  him,  now  that  he  lives  and  reigns  in  glory, 
he  can  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  in- 
firmities, our  sorrows,  having  in  all  points  been 


DISCOURSE. 


229 


tried  as  we  are  ;  and,  a  most  consoling  truth  it 
is,  ever  to  be  borne  in  mind  in  the  midst  of  our 
trials,  that  we  have  a  merciful  and  faithful 
High-priest  ascended  for  us  into  the  heavens, 
one  who  is  able  to  sympathize  with  and  to  suc- 
cor us  in  our  sufferings,  having  suffered  himself, 
and  been  made  perfect,  fitted  completely  for 
his  office,  as  Redeemer  and  Saviour,  by  suffer- 
ing. Yes,  it  is  true,  as  a  tried,  experienced 
sufferer  once  said, — "  Christ  has  gone  through 
every  class  and  grade  of  our  wilderness  school 
and  how  should  it  console  and  reconcile  us  to 
our  lot  to  reflect,  when  trials  are  heavy  upon 
us,  that  he  is  conducting  us  through  the  same 
school  in  preparation  for  an  eternal  residence 
with  him  in  the  mansions  he  has  prepared  for 
us  in  glory  ? 

3.  It  is  another  source  of  consolation  under 
the  bereavements  and  trials  of  life,  that,  when 
borne  in  a  Christian  manner,  they  always  come 
mingled  with  peculiar  tokens  of  God's  presence 
and  love.  So  the  Apostle  found  it  in  his  ex- 
perience. As  his  sufferings  for  Christ  abounded, 


230 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


SO  also  did  his  consolation  in  Christ.  The  Sav- 
iour came  near,  and  sustained  and  comforted 
him  with  his  special  presence,  with  his  sup- 
porting grace,  with  his  love  shed  abroad  in  the 
heart  and  the  joys  of  an  assured  hope  of 
heaven.  No  one  can  read  the  writings  of 
Paul  without  being  struck  wnth  the  fact  that 
his  purest  joys,  and  his  brighest  hopes,  and 
sweetest  songs,  were  closely  connected  with 
scenes  of  deep  trial  and  suffering  for  Christ. 
Nor  Avas  his  experience  in  this  matter  at  all 
peculiar  to  him.  It  was  common  to  all  the 
primitive  disciples  of  our  Lord.  In  proportion 
as  they  endured  trials  and  sufferings  in  the 
cause  of  their  Saviour,  he  came  near  and 
blessed  them  with  his  presence  and  favor ;  they 
took  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods,  were 
patient  and  happy  under  the  loss  of  all  things, 
and  went  singing  and  triumphant  even  to  the 
gibbet  and  the  stake.  And  so,  in  all  ages :  the 
Saviour  has  come  nearest  to  his  friends  in  their 
seasons  of  affliction  and  trial ; — they  trusting 
in  Him;  and  has  given  them  peculiar  mani- 


DISCOURSE. 


231 


festations  of  his  grace  and  love.  He  may  not, 
indeed,  remove  the  cup  nor  prevent  the  bit- 
terness of  the  draught,  but  he  supplies  needed 
strength  to  the  inner  man,  imparts  peace  and 
joy  and  hope  to  the  smitten  spirit,  and  often 
gives  a  realization  of  his  nearness,  of  his  friend- 
ship and  presence,  never  enjoyed  in  an  equal 
measure  at  any  other  time.  They  find  it, 
indeed,  to  be  true, — as  thy  day,  so  shall  thy 
strength  be.  When  the  three  friends  in  Baby- 
lon were  cast  into  the  burning,  fiery  furnace, 
one  like  unto  the  Son  of  man  was  seen  walking 
with  them  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  guarding 
them  from  all  harm.  So  when  the  Christian 
is  cast  into  the  furnace  of  affliction,  he  is  sure 
not  to  be  left  alone;  if  he  bows  to  the  dis- 
pensation and  trusts  in  him  who  appoints  it,  one 
is  sure  to  be  with  him  mighty  to  help  and  to 
save,  and  his  presence  and  favor  are  more, 
infinitely  more  than  a  compensation  for  the 
loss  of  all  earthly  comforts.  How  often  has  it 
been  witnessed  that  Christians  of  true  piety 
have  found  their  happiest  seasons  of  commun- 


232 


ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 


ioD  with  God  and  the  sweetest  Lours  of  spirit- 
ual enjoyment,  just  when  their  afflictions  were 
heaviest  and  their  trials  the  most  severe.  "  Oh," 
says  one,  "I  thought  I  could  never  bear  such 
a  trial  as  has  come  upon  me ;  it  seemed  to  me 
in  prospect  that  I  should  sink  under  it  and 
die ;  but  it  came ;  I  bowed  to  the  stroke ;  I 
said,  the  will  of  the  Lord  be  done, — and  He 
was  near  to  me,  and  held  me  up  and  gave  me 
such  tokens  of  his  presence  and  of  the  glorious 
fullness  of  his  grace  as  I  never  knew  anything 
of  before."  Oh,  that  this  may  be  our  experience, 
my  beloved  friends,  when  called  to  di'ink  of 
the  bitter  cup  of  affliction  and  sorrow. 

4.  It  is  yet  another  source  of  consolation 
under  the  trials  of  life,  that  they  are  but  for  a 
moment,  and  then  will  be  succeeded  by  ever- 
lasting blessedness  in  heaven.  Weeping  may 
endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the 
morning.  For  our  light  afflictions,  which  are  for 
a  moment,  work  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  And  in  another 
place  the  Apostle  says,  For  I  reckon  that  the 


DISCOURSE. 


233 


sufferings  of  the  present  time  are  not  worthy 
to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be 
revealed  in  us.  And  again,  No  chastening 
for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but 
grievous ;  nevertheless,  afterward,  it  worketh 
the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  unto  them 
"which  are  exercised  thereby.  Oh  !  this  after- 
ward', it  has  long  seemed  to  me  a  tei'm  full  of 
deep  and  comforting  significancy.  When  the 
blow  that  sweeps  away  our  comforts  first  falls, 
it  often  stuns  us,  as  it  were ;  we  are  over- 
whelmed by  it,  and  it  seems  more  than  we  can 
bear.  But  soon  a  soothing,  softening  process 
begins,  bringing  peace  to  the  soul  and  fruits  of 
righteousness,  sweet  to  the  taste  even  now,  bat 
far  sweeter  when  fully  ripened  in  heaven. 

We  are  prone,  indeed,  as  I  know  from  pain- 
ful experience,  to  think  of  our  trials  when  fresh 
upon  us,  as  too  heavy  to  be  borne,  and  we  are 
ready  to  imagine  that  there  is  no  relief  from 
them,  and  no  end.  But  this  is  our  weakness. 
Rightly  viewed,  we  shall  deem  them  light  and 
momentary,  as  the  Apostle  did  his  trials.  This 
11* 


234  ERSKINE   J,  HAWES. 


is,  indeed,  their  proper  characteristic,— light 
and  but  for  a  moment.  They  are  light  com- 
pared with  what  we  deserve ;  are  light  com- 
pared with  what  others,  better  than  ourselves, 
have  suffered ;  and  light,  because,  if  we  bear 
them  aright,  God  helps  us  to  sustain  them,  en- 
abling us  to  cast  the  burden  of  them  on  Him, 
■with  the  assurance  that  He  will  comfort  and 
uphold  us.  There  is  yet  another  circumstance 
that  makes  our  trials  light, — they  work  a  healing 
process  in  our  souls,  dislodge  us  from  our  earth- 
liness  and  sins,  and  bring  us  into  a  nearer  con- 
formity to  God,  and  a  gi-eater  fitness  to  appre- 
ciate and  to  enjoy  his  grace  and  love.  And  then 
how  true  it  is  that  they  are  but  for  a  moment  ? 
In  their  first  bitterness  they  dash  every  cup 
of  enjoyment,  as  it  were,  with  gall,  and  spread 
gloom  over  all  the  prospects  of  life.  But  soon, 
time,  with  the  grace  of  God,  comes  in  with  a 
softening,  sustaining  hand,  blunts  the  keen 
edge,  and  breaks  off  the  sharp  points  of  our 
bereavement,  and  leaves  us  with  the  happy 
fruits  that  spring  from  it  to  cheer  and  refresh 


DISCOURSE. 


235 


us  on  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  But  even  should 
our  bereavements  and  trials  be  many,  and 
should  seem  to  follow  us  in  quick  succession 
all  along  life's  journey,  still  we  may  say  of 
them,  and  truly,  they  are  but  for  a  moment. 
They  will  soon  be  over ;  we  part  with  them 
as  we  pass  over  Jordan,  to  enter  the  celestial 
city,  and  shall  meet  thera  no  more  forever. 
And  how  near  is  that  time  !  But  a  step,  and 
we  reach  the  end  of  our  earthly  course  and 
earthly  trials,  and  all  beyond  is  everlasting 
blessedness.  In  the  place  to  which  we  go,  if 
we  are  Christians,  there  shall  be  no  more 
tears,  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  cry- 
ing, nor  any  more  pain  in  the  sundering  of 
ties  that  unite  kindred  and  friends.  There 
all  that  is  now  dark  in  the  dealings  of  divine 
Providence  will  be  cleared  up.  Eternity  will 
show  how  all^  all  was  needed,  that  came  upon 
us  here  ;  that  nothing  else,  nothing  less,  could 
have  done.  "  With  all  its  mazy  windings  and 
rugged  roughness,  the  way  in  which  Christ  is 
leading  us  on,  if  we  are  his,  is  not  only  a 


236  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


riglit  way,  but  the  right  way,  the  best  which 
covenant  wisdom  and  love  could  select."  So 
we  shall  find  it  in  the  final  result, — the  winding 
up  of  this  checkered,  intricate  earthly  scene. 
And  how  consoling  a  truth  is  this  to  rest  upon 
under  the  trials  and  sorrows  of  life  ?  "  No- 
thing," says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "  does  so  establish 
the  mind  amidst  the  rollings  and  turbulence  of 
present  things,  as  both  a  look  ohove  them,  and  a 
look  heyond iham ;  above  them  to  the  steady  and 
good  hand  by  which  they  are  regulated ;  and 
beyond  them,  to  the  sweet  and  beautiful  end 
to  which  by  that  hand  they  will  be  brought." 
With  this  precious  truth  shedding  its  light  and 
comfort  into  our  souls,  we  may  well  say  with 
one  of  old,  in  every  dark  and  trying  day, — 
though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him. 
Would,  said  an  eminent  Christian,  now  entered 
on  his  rest,  that  one  could  read  and  write,  and 
toil  and  pray,  and  suffer  and  compose  one's 
self  to  sleep,  as  with  the  thought, — soon  to  he  in 
heaven^  and  that  forever  and  ever.  I  must 
mention : 


DISCOURSE. 


237 


5.  One  other  source  of  consolation  under 
the  bereavements  of  life, — it  is,  that,  when 
called  to  pai-t  with  near  and  loved  friends  who 
die  in  the  Lord,  our  separation  from  them  is 
but  for  a  brief  time.  They  have  gone  just  be- 
fore us  over  the  narrow  stream,  and  are  wait- 
ing on  the  shining  shore  to  welcome  our 
arrival,  to  join  their  happy  society  and  inter- 
course, to  part  no  more  forever.  They  have 
gone  from  us ;  but  they  are  not  perished. 
They  are  still  alive, — alive  with  all  their 
powers  invigorated,  with  all  their  affections 
purified,  with  all  that  was  lovely  and  interest- 
ing and  good  in  them  here  made  perfect ;  and 
clothed  with  immortal  youth  and  vigor,  they 
remember  us,  pilgi'ims  on  earth,  with  a  warmer 
love  than  ever,  and  are  looking  and  longing, 
it  may  be,  for  the  day  when  we,  too,  shall 
quit  these  scenes  of  mortality  and  go  to  be 
ever  with  them  in  the  presence  of  their  and 
our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Yes,  we  shall  surely 
meet  our  dear  Christian  friends  in  another 
world,  and  shall  know  them  and  love  them,  and 


238  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


forever  enjoy  their  society.  I  have  the  deepest 
conviction  of  this  truth.  It  is  fully  sustained 
in  the  scriptures ;  it  is  most  reasonable  in  itself, 
and  accords  well  with  all  that  we  know  of  tlie 
soul  and  of  the  scenes  of  immortality  beyond  the 
grave.  And  it  is  a  truth  which  grows  sweeter 
and  more  comforting  to  my  lieart  every  year 
I  live.  I  lean  upon  it  and  bring  it  home  to 
my  bosom  with  fresh  gratitude  and  faith  in 
this  day  of  m}"  sorrow.  My  son,  my  dear  and 
only  son,  thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  before 
me,  hast  left  me  a  lonely  mourner  in  the  decline 
of  my  age ;  but  I  would  not  recall  thee,  to  re- 
new the  battle  of  life,  and  pass  through  the 
agonies  of  another  death-scene.  No,  the  last 
conflict  is  over,  the  victory  is  won,  and  thy 
Saviour,  I  trust,  has  taken  thee  to  Himself  to 
serve  and  enjoy  Him  in  a  higher  sphere  of  ac- 
tivity, of  usefulness  and  blessedness  than  earth 
could  afford.  And  there  thou  art  waiting  for 
thy  parents,  now  mourning  thy  departure,  and 
weeping  over  thy  too  early  grave,  as  it  seems 
to  us,  in  our  short-sightedness.    But  thou  wilt 


DISCOURSE. 


239 


not  wait  long ;  we  are  nearing  the  brink  of  tlie 
river  over  which  thou  hast  passed,  and  ere  long 
the  summons  will  come  for  us  to  launch  away, 
and  go  to  the  spirit-land  where  we  confidently 
hope  for  thy  welcome,  and  to  have  thee  near 
to  us  forever.  And,  tell  us,  hast  thou  found 
thy  loved  brothers  and  sisters  who  died  before 
thee  ?  Were  they  ready  to  greet  thee,  when, 
bidding  us  farewell,  thou  didst  pass  so  suddenly 
within  the  vail  ?  Yes ;  ye  are  all  together  now, 
and  ere  long,  as  I  humbly  hope,  we  shall  all  meet, 
a  happy,  united  family,  to  minister  to  each  other's 
joy  and  blessedness  in  the  presence  of  our  Sav- 
iour, and  to  the  glory  of  his  rich  grace  forever 
and  ever.  Yes ;  and  other  thoughts  crowd  on 
my  mind,  as  this  prospect  opens  to  my  view 
and  sheds  its  light  and  comfort  to  cheer  my 
afflicted,  bleeding  heart.  There,  on  the  distant 
shore,  toward  which  I  am  fast  sailing,  I  see 
dear  departed  friends,  in  large  number,  to 
whom  I  ministered  while  they  were  yet  with 
us,  and  whom  I  loved  as  followers  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  and  fellow-helpers  in  the  gospel, — I  see 


240 


ERSKINB   J.  HAWES. 


tliem  waiting^ — tlie  nine  pastors,  too,  that  have 
labored  and  died  here  before  me,  and  the 
happy  ones  whom  they  assisted  on  their  way 
to  glory, — yes,  all  waiting  to  welcome  me  and 
others  belonging  to  Jesus  of  this  communion, 
to  their  society,  and  to  the  general  assem- 
bly and  church  of  the  first-born  in  heaven, — 
there,  all  accounted  worthy  of  this  blessedness 
will  finally  meet  and  have  a  grateful  recog- 
nition of  former  friendships,  and  of  each  other, 
as  disciples  of  the  one  common  Saviour, — 
parted  here  for  a  season  by  the  unsparing 
hand  of  death,  but  reunited  now  in  a  purer, 
happier,  perfect  love,  to  dwell  together  for- 
ever, with  no  fear  or  possibility  of  severance 
during  everlasting  ages.  This  is  a  prospect 
which  may  well  sustain  and  comfort  us  as, 
amid  changes  and  trials,  we  go  on  to  finish 
our  course  on  earth.  The  end  will  soon  be 
reached,  and  beyond  shines  one  eternal  day ; 
there  God,  the  sun,  forever  reigns  and  scatters 
night  away,  and  lost  ones  restored  to  our  em- 
brace will  be  taken  from  us  never,  no  never. 


DISCOURSE. 


241 


I  have  thus,  my  friends,  speaking  from  a 
sorrowing,  smitten  heart,  indicated  to  you 
some  of  the  sources  of  consolation  opened  to 
us  in  the  loving-kindness  of  God,  and  to  which 
we  are  invited  to  have  recourse  in  seasons  of 
adversity  and  trial,  I  commend  them  to  you, 
my  dear  people,  in  the  earnestness  of  a  pastor's 
love  and  a  pastor's  care.  Many  of  you  may 
not  feel  the  need  of  them  now.  I  see  you 
here  to-day  in  health  and  happiness ;  parents 
surrounded  by  their  children,  no  one  of  their 
number  missing;  and  happy  family  circles 
that  have  never  yet  been  broken  in  upon  by 
death,  nor  clothed  in  garments  of  mourning. 
But  the  past  is  no  security  for  the  future,  nor 
are  present  happy  circumstances  any  pledge  of 
what  will  be  to-morrow.  I  stood  here  last 
Sabbath,  urging  upon  you  the  duty  and  priv- 
ilege of  prayer,  and  though  not  without  anx- 
iety from  what  I  had  heard  the  afternoon 
preceding,  I  had  no  apprehension  of  what  was 
passing  on  a  bed  of  suffering  in  the  home  of 
one  dear  to  me  as  life,  or  that  within  a  few 


242 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


hours  I  should  be  written  childless.  But  so  it 
was,  and  while  you  were  assembled  here  for 
worship,  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  place  of  be- 
reavement and  sorrow.  And  in  my  loneliness 
and  great  fear  of  what  might  be  before  me,  I 
tried  to  console  my  feelings  and  prepare  for 
the  mournful  issue,  by  dwelling  on  the  thoughts 
I  have  now  laid  before  you.  Take  them  to 
your  bosoms,  my  beloved  friends  ;  you  may 
soon  have  need  of  them ;  know  what  the 
sources  of  consolation  are  while  yet  the  hand 
of  bereavement  is  stayed  and  the  cup  of  sor- 
row is  not  pressed  to  your  lips.  It  will  be  no 
time  to  discover  them  or  to  find  your  way  to 
them  when  the  blow  has  fallen  and  you  are 
crushed  by  its  weight.  Let  the  great  truth  of 
an  all-wise,  overruling  Providence  ever  be  pre- 
sent to  your  minds,  your  stay  and  support  in 
the  day  of  trouble.  Learn  to  look  upon  the 
trials  of  life  as  disciplinary,  educational,  adapted 
and  designed  to  detach  you  from  the  world  and 
to  fit  you  for  a  higher  and  happier  state  of 
being.    Ever  be  prepared  to  meet  trials,  in  a 


DISCOURSE. 


243 


state  of  mind  that  will  bring  God  near  to  you  ; 
a  very  present  help  in  trouble,  on  whom  you 
may  cast  your  burdens  and  find  Him  ready 
to  sustain  you.  When  afflicted  and  tried  in 
the  death  of  near  and  loved  relatives  and 
friends,  remember  that  these  afflictions  are  but 
for  a  moment,  and  the  separation  which  you 
now  mourn  will  soon  be  followed  by  an  eternal 
reunion  in  heaven. 

These  thoughts  which  I  thus  commend  to 
you,  I  have  found  precious  to  myself  in  this 
day  of  my  sorrow.  Would  that  I  could  bring 
them  nearer  to  my  heart,  and  draw  from  them 
more  abundantly  the  consolation  they  are  fitted 
to  afford.  I  cannot  but  feel  under  the  stroke 
that  has  fallen  so  heavily  upon  me.  The 
heart  smitten  will  bleed,  the  fountain  of  tears 
unsealed  will  flow.  I  know  who  has  done  it, 
and  though  I  know  not  now  why  He  has  done 
it,  I  doubt  not  that  He  had  wise  and  good 
reasons,  and  that  what  now  seems  so  deeply 
mysterious  and  trying,  has  upon  it  the  charac- 
ter of  a  Father's  love,  and  I  shall  yet  see  it. 


244  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


Still  the  thought  is  a  bitter  one, — I  teas  a  father^ 
and  I  ham  lost  all.  Of  six  children,  not  one 
lives  to  call  me  Ly  that  endearing  name.  The 
last  is  gone,  laid  by  the  side  of  four  others, 
while  a  fifth  lies  entombed  on  the  shore  of  the 
Bosphorus, — separated  here^  but  united  tliere^ 
and  there  I  hope  ere  long  to  meet  them. 

After  what  you  heard  at  the  funeral  exer- 
cises last  Wednesday,  I  deem  it  unnecessary, 
and  it  might  seem  improper,  to  say  much  touch- 
ing the  brief  life  and  sudden  death  of  my  dear 
son.  I  may,  at  another  time  and  in  another 
form,*  perhaps,  say  something  of  him  more 
particular.  He  was  born  and  trained  here  in 
the  midst  of  you.  He  was  baptized  in  this 
church.  For  many  years  he  was  a  member  of 
our  Sabbath-school.  Here  he  professed  his 
faith  in  Christ ;  here  he  worshipped  and  com- 
muned at  the  table  of  the  Lord;  and  here 
he  has  often  stood  to  preach  the  Gospel  and 
commend  to  you  the  Saviour  whom  he  loved.  I 
am  happy  to  think  of  him,  as  having,  in  the  whole 

*  That  has  now  been  done  by  a  mother's  hand. 


DISCOURSE. 


245 


of  his  brief  course,  maintained  a  singularly- 
pure,  untarnished  character,  sincere,  open,  kind, 
honest  and  unassuming  in  all  his  intercourse 
with  others,  winning  from  them  a  willing  trib- 
ute of  confidence,  affection  and  respect.  Hap- 
pily settled  in  the  ministry,  loving  his  people 
and  loved  by  them,  he  was,  in  the  estimation 
of  all  who  were  best  acquainted  with  him, 
especially  in  these  latter  months,  fast  increas- 
ing in  mental  vigor,  in  warm,  earnest  piety,  in 
devotedness  to  his  work,  and  in  all  the  qualifica- 
tions which  promised  to  raise  him  high  as  a 
faithful,  efficient  and  useful  minister  of  Christ. 
These  things  were  noticed  by  his  parents,  by 
his  people,  and  by  his  brethren  in  the  ministry, 
who  had  the  most  intimate  intercourse  with 
him;  and  I  was  happy  in  the  thought,  that, 
while  I  should  have  him  to  lean  upon  in  my 
declining  age,  he  would  remain  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  his  fellow-men,  when  I  should  be 
silent  in  my  grave.  But  he  is  gone,  and  I  am 
left  alone.  But,  blessed  be  God,  I  do  not 
mourn  as  one  that  has  no  hope.    The  summons 


246 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


to  depart,  though  coming  suddenly,  found  him 
not  unprepared.  His  Saviour  came  near  to 
him  in  the  agonizing,  dying  scene,  and  he  ut- 
tered many  words  of  strong  faith  and  hope,  as 
well  as  of  calm  submission  and  peace.  These, 
dear  departed  one,  we  accept  as  thy  last  pre- 
cious legacy  to  thy  sorrowing  parents  and 
friends,  and  as  comforting  pledges  of  soon  meet- 
ing thee  again  in  the  happy  home  whither 
thou  hast  gone  before  us.  Henceforth,  I  would 
learn  from  the  suddenness  as  well  as  from  the 
peace  of  thy  death,  to  prepare  the  better  for 
my  own ;  happy  if,  reminded  by  these  changes 
and  this  decaying  strength  of  the  frailty  of  my 
life  and  of  the  account  I  must  soon  give  of  my 
ministry,  I  may  be  ready  for  the  summons. 
Deprived  of  all  my  children  and  left  alone,  as 
it  were,  in  the  world,  with  none  to  stay  up  my 
steps  or  bear  my  name  to  a  coming  generation, 
henceforth  I  would  "devote  to  the  flock, 
which  I  have  to  feed  with  the  word  of  life, 
the  remnants  of  a  voice  that  falters  and  a 
strength  that  is  fading  away." 


NO  NIGHT  IN  HEAVEN* 


"  There  shall  be  no  night  there."— Rev.  xxi.  25. 

The  views  which  men  entertain  of  heaven 
are  very  apt  to  be  modified  and  colored  by 
their  own  peculiar  temperament  and  habits. 
It  is  said  of  the  late  William  Wilberforce  of 
England,  that  he  loved  to  think  of  heaven  as 
a  place  of  rest ;  and  the  reason  of  it  was,  he 
was  a  man  ever  burdened  with  cares,  and  for 
many  years  was  incessantly  harassed  and  op- 
pressed with  the  toils  and  responsibilities  of 
public  life.  He  wanted  rest.  On  the  other 
hand,  Robert  Hall  loved  to  think  of  heaven 
as  a  place  where  there  should  be  no  more 
pain ;  and  the  reason  in  his  case  was,  that, 
during  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  he  was 

*  It  will  at  once  be  seen  that  the  occasion  of  this  discourse  was 
the  same  as  that  of  the  preceding.  Both  grew  out  of  a  scene  of 
bereavement  and  sorrow,  and  they  are  now  published  in  the  hope 
that  the  sentiments  they  contain  may  afford  light  and  comfort  to 
some  when  called  to  drink  of  the  bitter  cup. 


248  ERSKINE   J,  HAWES. 

subjected  to  extreme  bodily  suffering,  and 
often  to  the  most  excruciating  torture.  But 
the  idea  of  heaven  presented  in  the  text  is 
more  general  and  comprehensive  than  either 
of  these.  It  denotes  freedom  from  darkness, 
or  obscurity  of  mental  vision;  and  from  all 
perplexity,  suffering  and  trial.  The  term 
night  as  used  in  the  text,  is  a  figurative  ex- 
pression to  denote  exemption  from  whatever 
is  obscure,  intricate,  mysterious,  and  trying  in 
our  present  state  of  being.  It  is  often  so  used 
in  the  Scriptures,  and  also  in  common  dis- 
course ;  and  accepted  in  this  sense,  it  will  help 
us  to  form  some  views  of  the  heavenly  state, 
which,  to  some  present  at  least,  it  cannot  fail 
to  be  interesting  and  instructive. 

It  is  well  remarked  by  the  excellent  Richard 
Cecil,  that  "  though  the  word  of  God  furnishes 
a  minister  with  a  rich  variety  of  topics,  yet 
his  discourses  will  be  mu^h  influenced  by  his 
feelings,  and  colored  by  his  own  experience. 
Is  he  a  man  strong  in  faith  and  buoyant  in 
spirit  ?  like  one  standing  upon  a  mountain,  he 


DISCOURSE. 


249 


will  naturally  discourse  to  others  of  the  firm- 
ness of  the  foundation  on  which  he  stands, 
and  will  describe  to  them  the  beauties  of  the 
prospects  around  him.  Does  he,  on  the  con- 
trary, tread  the  valley  of  tears  ?  he  will  then 
naturally  become  the  companion  of  the  afilicted, 
and  point  out  to  them  what  he  himself  learns 
in  the  vale."  Placed  as  I  am,  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  in  this  latter  state,  amid  the 
shades  of  night  that  have  gathered  around  me, 
and  the  swelling  of  deep  waters  through  which 
I  am  called  to  pass,  my  thoughts  naturally 
seek  relief  by  turning  to  scenes  above  and 
beyond  the  things  of  earth  and  time,  to  that 
pure  and  happy  heaven,  of  which  it  is  said  in 
the  text,  "  there  shall  be  no  night  there."  Let  us 
dwell  on  this  thought.  There  is  much  in  it  to 
sustain  and  to  animate,  while,  as  pilgrims,  we  so- 
journ in  this  dark  and  mysterious  state  of  being. 
It  is  night  now;  but  it  will  be  full,  bright  day 
hereafter.  Let  me  mention  a  few  things  which 
properly  characterize  the  present  as  our  night 
state.  Here  we  see  almost  all  things,  especially 

12 


250  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

sucli  as  relate  to  spiritual  objects,  through  a 
dark,  imperfect  medium.  We  think  of  God,  for 
example,  the  great  first  cause  and  upholder  of 
all  things.  Wherever  we  turn,  we  see  evidence 
that  such  a  being  exists,  and  we  cannot  but 
feel  that  in  Him  we  live  and  move  and  have 
our  being ;  Himself,  everywhere  present,  inde- 
pendent of  and  ruling  over  all.  But  how 
little  do  we  know  of  this  invisible,  mysterious, 
almighty  Being?  How  deep  the  night  that 
hides  Him  from  our  view ;  veils  his  character  and 
ways  from  our  scrutiny  and  our  comprehension ! 
Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God?  canst 
thou  find  out  the  Almighty  unto  perfection  ?  It 
is  as  high  as  heaven ;  what  canst  thou  do  ? 
deeper  than  hell ;  what  canst  thou  know  ?  The 
measure  thereof  is  longer  than  the  earth,  and 
broader  than  the  sea.  There  is  no  searching 
of  his  understanding;  no  comprehending  of 
his  mysterious,  unfathomable  attributes  or  the 
eternal  counsels  of  his  infinite  mind  ?  Enough 
is  known  to  lay  a  perfect  ground  of  confidence 
and  hope ;  but  oh,  how  little,  in  this  our  uight 


DISCOURSE. 


251 


state,  are  we  able  to  compreliend  of  that 
infinite,  eternal  Being,  who  reigns  in  high 
authority  over  all  worlds,  orders  all  the  changes 
of  life,  and  holds  our  immortal  destiny  in  his 
hands  ? 

I  have  referred  to  the  counsels  of  God,  to  the 
plans  and  purposes  of  the  infinite  Mind.  These 
embrace  the  universe  in  all  its  parts,  and 
extend  to  all  creatures  and  events.  But  how 
little  do  we  know  of  them ;  how  profoundly 
are  they  concealed  from  our  view ;  hidden  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Eternal,  so  that  we  can  know 
nothing  of  them,  only  as  they  are  developed 
in  providence  or  are  faintly  shadowed  forth,  in 
some  of  their  parts,  in  the  book  of  revelation. 
God  gives  no  account  of  the  designs  and  pur- 
poses according  to  which  He  governs  the 
world  ;  and  they  are  enveloped  in  deep  night 
till  they  are  brought  to  light  in  the  move- 
ments of  that  mighty  Providence  which  fore- 
sees, pervades,  and  rules  over  all. 

And  then  this  Providence  —  what  a  deep 
unknown;  what  a  sea  unfathomable  is  it  to 


252  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

US !  Look  back  and  read  the  history  of  the 
past,  and  how  much  do  we  discover  which 
seems  to  us  profoundly  mysterious  and  utterly 
inexplicable  in  this  our  night  state  of  being ! 
How  different  a  world  is  this  from  what  we 
might  expect  to  proceed  from  the  hand  of 
such  a  being  as  God,  and  how  differently  has 
it  been  and  is  governed !  Whence  came 
sin  and  all  the  misery  and  woe  which  have 
overspread  the  world  for  six  thousand  years  ? 
If  God  is  infinitely  powerful,  how  easily  might 
He  have  prevented  the  evils  under  which  our 
race  has  so  long  groaned,  and  suffered,  and 
died !  If  He  is  infinitely  wise  and  good,  why 
did  He  not  do  it  ?  So  we  reason,  and  yet  we 
are  confronted  by  stern  facts,  and  our  reason- 
ing is  naught.  This  whole  subject  is  wrapped 
in  deep  mystery.  I  see  no  way  to  explain  the 
difficulties  involved  in  it.  The  facts  are  before 
me.  I  feel  their  sad  pressure  on  my  spirit,  and 
I  see  their  crushing  weight  as  they  fall  upon 
my  fellow  men.  But  no  ray  of  light  comes 
to  disclose  to  me  the  reason  why  sin  came 


DISCOURSE. 


258 


into  the  world ;  why  the  earth  is  strewed  with 
the  dying  and  the  dead,  and  why  such  mul- 
titudes are  left  to  live  and  die  in  their  sins, 
and  be  lost  forever.  It  is  night,  dark  night  in 
my  view  in  relation  to  all  that  is  connected 
with  the  existence  of  natural  and  moral  evil, 
and  the  terrible  consequences  that  are  to  result 
from  this  state  of  things  in  a  future  world. 

Then,  if  we  look  at  the  course  of  events,  as 
developed  in  God's  providential  government 
of  the  world,  how  much  there  is  in  it  that  is 
dark  and  mysterious !  how  entirely  unlike  what 
might  have  been  anticipated  from  the  known 
character  of  God !  We  know  that  He  is  a 
Being  of  infinite  wisdom  and  mercy,  and  loves 
to  communicate  happiness  to  his  creatures;  yet 
we  see  them  everywhere  sunk  in  ignorance 
and  sin,  oppressed  with  calamity,  surrounded 
by  miseries,  and  we  find  that  man  has,  in  all 
ages  and  conditions,  been  born  to  trouble  as 
the  sparks  fly  upward. 

A  way  has  been  opened  in  the  Gospel  for 
the  enlightenment  and  salvation  of  man ;  and 


254  ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 

from  the  known  design  of  God  in  providing 
a  Saviour,  and  the  all-sufficiency  of  his  grace 
to  meet  the  deepest  wants  of  our  race,  it  might 
have  been  expected  that  long,  long  ere  this, 
centuries  ago,  the  tidings  of  salvation  would 
have  been  proclaimed  through  the  earth,  and 
all  have  been  recovered  from  the  power  and 
misery  of  sin  and  restored  to  the  image  and 
favor  of  God. 

But  how  very  limited,  as  yet,  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  Gospel,  and  how  little  has  been 
done  by  its  light  and  power,  compared  with 
what  might  have  been  anticipated  from  the 
divine  principles  it  contains,  from  the  character 
of  its  author  and  the  interest  it  possesses  in 
the  heart  of  God!  How  dark,  how  inexpli- 
cable is  this  fact :  God's  great  remedy  for  the 
sins  and  woes  of  our  race  known  only  to  a 
small  part  of  mankind,  and  that  after  a  lapse 
of  more  than  eighteen  hundred  years.  A 
great  part  of  the  world  is  no  better  than  if 
Christ  had  never  come  to  save  lost  men,  and 
the  Gospel  had  never  been  proclaimed.  Many 


DISCOURSE. 


255 


who  hear  it  are  even  the  worse  for  what  they 
hear ;  for  where  it  is  not  a  savor  of  life  unto 
life,  it  is  a  savor  of  death  unto  death. 

I  might  here  refer  to  many  of  the  doctrines 
of  Scripture,  and  show  that  while  they  are 
sufficiently  clear  and  full  to  guide  and  assist  us 
in  duty  and  point  out  for  us  a  safe  way  to 
heaven,  there  is  much,  very  much  in  them 
which  we  do  not  comprehend,  and  which,  while 
in  our  present  state,  must  always  appear  ob- 
scure and  mysterious. 

But  I  have  time  only  to  notice  further  the 
obscurity  of  providence,  its  dark  and  intricate 
dealings  with  ourselves.  If  we  look  to  our  past, 
how  many  things  in  our  history  are  wrapped  in 
night:  we  can  give  no  explanation  of  them. 
They  came  upon  us  suddenly,  unexpectedly, 
and  we  knew  not  till  an  unseen  hand  was 
upon  us,  leading  us  into  unknown  paths,  and 
in  ways  entirely  hidden  from  our  view.  And  if 
we  turn  to  the  future ;  what  do  we  know  of  it  ? 
It  is  all  veiled  in  obscurity.  We  cannot  see  a 
step  before  us,  nor  know  what  a  single  day  or 


256 


ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 


hour  may  bring  forth.  This  only  we  know 
that  changes  and  trials  await  us ;  for  they  are 
the  common  allotment  of  all;  but  in  what 
form  and  at  what  time  they  will  come  upon 
us  is  known  only  to  Him  in  whose  hand  is  our 
life  and  breath,  and  whose  are  all  our  ways. 
Oh,  as  we  cast  an  eye  along  the  path  that  is  to 
conduct  us  to  the  grave,  how  little  do  we 
know  what  is  to  befall  us;  how  unseen  the 
descending  stroke  of  affliction  and  bereave- 
ment ;  how  hidden  is  the  time  and  manner  of 
our  death,  and  how  deep  the  night  that  hides 
the  scenes  of  eternity  from  our  view,  except 
only  as  by  the  light  of  faith  and  hope  we  may 
anticipate  that  we  shall  find  the  favor  of  God 
through  Christ,  and  enter  into  a  state  of  ever- 
lasting blessedness. 

I  might  expatiate  much  more  on  this  part 
of  my  subject.  But  let  us  pass  to  consider 
that  this  night  state  of  our  being,  as  I  call  it, 
is  to  be  succeeded  by  one  of  bright,  everlast- 
ing day.  There  shall  be  no  night  there.  The 
reference  here  is  to  heaven — the  world  of  per- 


DISCOURSE.  257 

feet  purity  and  everlasting  blessedness,  revealed 
as  the  future  home  of  all  the  redeemed  of  the 
Lord.  Of  that  world  we  can,  in  our  present 
state,  have  but  a  very  imperfect  conception. 
The  fact  that  there  is  a  holy  and  a  happy  heaven 
prepared  as  the  future  abode  of  the  righteous, 
is  clearly  made  known  to  us  in  the  Scriptures. 
It  is  a  place ;  a  place  of  infinite  magnificence 
and  beauty ;  forever  illumined  by  the  presence 
of  God,  and  adorned  with  all  that  ,is  suited  to 
satisfy  the  purest  and  noblest  desires  of  our 
immortal  minds,  and  to  advance  us  forever  in 
knowledge,  in  holiness,  and  happiness.  Still 
our  conceptions  of  heaven,  in  this  dark  and 
shadowy  state  of  being,  must  of  course  be  ex- 
ceedingly inadequate.  It  is  of  necessity  repre- 
sented to  us  under  sensible  images,  or  images 
drawn  from  sensible  objects  with  which  we 
are  here  familiar — grand  and  beautiful  indeed, 
and  yet  as  used  to  set  before  us  spiritual 
things,  must  fall  far  short  of  the  reality.  Sev- 
eral of  these  images  are  presented  to  us  in 

the  context.    Heaven  is  there  spoken  of  as  a 
12* 


258 


ERSKINE  J. 


HA  WES. 


vast  city,  with  walls  and  gates  and  streets  of 
pure  gold  and  pearl  and  transparent  glass. 
Jobn,  who  bad  a  vision  of  it,  says :  "  I  saw  no 
temple  therein ;  for  the  Lord  God  Almighty 
and  the  Lamb  are  the  temple  of  it.  And  the 
city  had  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the 
moon  to  shine  in  it ;  for  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
doth  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light 
thereof.  And  the  nations  of  them  which  are 
saved  shall  walk  in  the  light  of  it,  and 
the  kings  of  the  earth  do  bring  their 
glory  and  honor  into  it.  And  the  gates 
of  it  shall  not  be  shut  at  all  by  day,  for 
there  shall  be  no  night  there.  And  they  shall 
bring  the  glory  and  honor  of  the  nations  into 
it.  And  there  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  it 
anything  that  defileth,  neither  whatsoever 
worketh  abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie ;  but 
they  which  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
Life."  Now  all  these  are  obviously  figurative 
expressions,  designed  to  give  us  the  fullest  and 
most  impressive  conception  of  heaven  and  its 
glories  of  which  we  are  now  capable,  but 


DISCOURSE. 


259 


which,  no  doubt,  comes  far  short  of  the  reality, 
and  may,  in  many  respects,  as  it  lies  in  our 
minds,  be  very  unlike  the  reality.  Thus  in 
regard  to  the  expression  in  our  text,  "  There 
shall  be  no  night  there it  is,  as  before  inti- 
mated, to  be  taken  in  a  figurative  sense ;  and 
thus  viewed,  it  means,  not  merely  that  there 
is  to  be  no  literal  darkness  in  heaven,  but 
nothing  of  which  nisfht  is  the  emblem — no 
obscurity,  no  perplexity,  no  calamity,  or  sorrow, 
or  bereavement,  no  dark,  mysterious  providences 
of  any  kind  to  try  our  faith  and  cast  their 
shadows  on  the  future.  It  will  then  be  all 
day,  all  bright,  unclouded  light.  Here  is  our 
night  state.  There  night  will  have  passed  away 
forever,  and  clear,  full  day  will  shine  upon  us 
for  eternal  ages.  There^  there  will  be  no 
night  in  regard  to  the  character  and  perfec- 
tions of  God.  For  He  is  the  sun  of  that 
world,  and  his  glory  doth  lighten  it  for  ever 
and  ever.  And  they  need  no  candle,  neither 
the  light  of  the  sun ;  for  the  Lord  God  will 
shine  forth  there  in  all  the  glory  of  his  attri- 


260  ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 

butes;  "will  manifest  himself  as  He  is  with 
such  clearness  and  fullness  of  light  as  will 
scatter  all  the  darkness  that  now  hangs  over 
our  minds  in  regard  to  his  being  and  perfec- 
tions ;  for,  as  the  Scriptures  assure  us,  we  shall 
dwell  in  his  presence,  shall  see  Him  as  He  is, 
see  Him,  face  to  face,  and  know  Him  even  as 
we  are  known.  Our  minds,  too,  freed  from 
all  the  weakness  and  obscurity  that  attend  us 
in  this  our  fallen  state,  and  made  equal  unto 
the  angels,  as  we  are  assured  they  will  be 
if  we  are  found  with  the  redeemed  in  heaven, 
we  shall  be  qualified  to  know  God  as  now  we 
cannot,  and  to  apprehend  the  glory  and  ex- 
cellence of  his  character  and  ways,  far,  far 
beyoud  what  we  can  at  present  have  any  con- 
ception of 

Then,  too,  there  will  be  no  more  uight  in 
regard  to  the  purposes  of  God,  his  government, 
and  his  plan  of  salvation  for  lost  men.  This 
world's  great  drama  will  then  be  closed ;  the 
design  of  God  in  its  creation  and  government 
accomplished,  and  all  that  is  now  dark  and 


DISCOURSE. 


261 


mysterious  in  relation  to  this  subject  will  be 
cleared  up.  We  shall  then  see,  certainly  far 
beyond  what  we  now  can,  why  sin  was  per- 
mitted to  enter  this  world,  and  with  it  the 
sufferings  and  woes  of  so  many  thousand  years. 
We  shall  then  see  why  ignorance  and  idolatry 
and  crime,  and  all  the  influences  that  combine 
to  make  men  miserable  and  fit  them  for  des- 
truction were  suffered  to  hold  so  long  and 
fearful  a  sway  on  earth,  and  that  too,  notwith- 
standing the  full  provision  made  in  the  good- 
ness and  mercy  of  God  for  the  recovery  of  the 
lost  to  his  favor  and  kingdom.  This  whole 
subject,  wrapped  in  profound  night  now,  will 
then  have  shed  upon  it  the  light  of  perfect 
day,  amid  the  revelations  of  the  heavenly 
state.  God  will  then  be  seen  in  the  glory  of 
his  holiness,  his  justice,  his  truth,  and  grace ; 
his  throne  will  stand  vindicated  before  the 
universe,  his  ways  towards  man  fully  justified ; 
Himself  loved,  adored,  and  praised  as  worthy 
of  the  supreme  homage,  obedience,  and  trust 
of  all  intelligent  beings. 


262  ERSKINE   J.    HA  WES. 

There  will  be  no  more  niglit  there  in  regard 
to  the  providence  of  God,  as  administered  over 
the  affairs  of  man,  often  now  veiled  in  deep 
mystery.  All  will  then  be  cleared  up,  and  it  will 
be  seen  that  God  had  wise  and  good  reasons 
for  all  the  events  which  we  were  called  to  ex- 
perience in  this  state  of  probation  and  trial. 
It  will  then  be  seen  why  so  deep  a  veil  hides 
future  scenes  from  our  view,  so  that  we  cannot 
know  what  a  day  may  bring  forth,  nor  be  cer- 
tain of  life  either  for  ourselves  or  others,  a 
single  hour  or  moment.  We  shall  then  see 
why  the  young,  the  vigorous,  and  the  promis- 
ing of  long  life  and  usefulness  in  the  world 
are  often  called  away  in  the  midst  of  their 
days,  while  the  feeble,  the  sickly,  the  wicked, 
and  the  useless  are  spared  to  be  a  burden  to 
themselves  and  a  sorrow  and  grief  it  may  be 
to  others.  We  shall  then  see,  too,  why  we 
are  so  often  tried,  disappointed,  and  crossed 
in  our  pathway  in  life ;  why  our  favorite  plans 
are  disconcerted,  our  brightest  hopes  dark- 
ened, our  most  loved  treasures  taken  from  us. 


DISCOURSE. 


263 


and  we  left,  as  it  were  alone,  to  tread  our  soli- 
tary way  to  the  close  of  our  earthly  course. 
All  these  things,  now  so  inexplicable  and 
trying  in  this  our  night  state,  will  all  be  ex- 
plained in  the  light  of  that  day,  which  is  to 
shine  with  no  night  forever,  in  the  mansions 
of  heaven.  There  will  then  be  found  a  need-he 
in  respect  to  the  darkest  and  most  trying  events 
that  befall  us  in  life ;  and  we  shall  then  hnow 
what  it  is  now  so  hard  for  us  sometimes  to  believe^ 
that  our  severest  trials  are  mercies  in  disguise, 
and  that  our  light  afflictions,  which  are  but  for 
a  moment,  work  for  us  a  far  more  and  exceed- 
ing weight  of  glory,  while  we  look  not  at  the 
things  that  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  that 
are  not  seen.  Under  the  hand  of  God,  all  the 
events  of  tinae,  all  the  afflictions,  changes  and 
to  trials  of  life,  are  carried  forward  to  give  place 
or  to  be  united  with  that  which  is  now  unseen 
and  eternal.  This  is  the  development  of  the 
whole  plan,  the  explication  of  all  the  intricate 
movements  of  Providence.  Look  at  the  things 
which  are  unseen  and  eternal ;  there  is  the 


264  ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


state  to  which  we  are  tending,  and  there  we 
shall  know  in  perfection  what  we  now  know 
onlj  in  part,  and  shall  be  satisfied  that  all  has 
been  conducted  in  infinite  Masdom  and  good- 
ness, so  as  best  to  illustrate  the  gloiy  of  God, 
and  secure  the  highest  happiness,  present  and 
eternal,  of  them  that  love  Him.  In  heaven 
there  will  be  no  night  in  regard  to  the  mode 
of  our  entering  that  world,  and  our  immediate 
condition  on  arriving  there.  We  shall  then 
have  passed  through  the  change  of  death  and 
the  grave,  and  have  entered  the  celestial  city, 
living,  conscious,  active  beings ;  and  though,  as 
Isaac  Taylor  well  suggests,  in  his  Philosophy 
of  a  Future  State,  it  may  take  some  time  to 
adjust  ourselves  to  our  new  state  of  being,  and 
to  the  new  laws  of  intercourse  and  action  pre- 
vailing around  us ;  we  shall  know  that  we  are 
at  home  in  heaven,  free  from  sin,  from  sorrow, 
from  death  ;  spiritual  beings  in  the  midst  of  a 
spiritual  world;  surrounded  by  beings  like 
ourselves,  in  eternal  harmony  with  them, 
with  God  and  all  the  holy  subjects  of  his  em- 


DISCOURSE.  265 

pire.  There  will  be  no  night  there  in  regard 
to  the  recognition  of  departed  friends.  We 
have  reason  to  believe  that  on  leaving  this 
world,  we  shall  enter  at  once  into  the  society 
of  loved  ones  who  have  gone  to  heaven  before 
us,  and  that  we  shall  know  them,  and  be 
known  of  them.  How  this  will  be  in  our 
then  changed  mode  of  being  and  circumstan- 
ces, it  is  not  easy  for  us  to  conceive ;  but  it 
will  be  plain  hereafter,  and  friends  will  greet 
friends,  in  mutual  recognition  and  love,  to  part 
no  more  forever. 

There  will  be  no  night  there  in  regard  to 
the  manner  of  holding  intercourse  with  the 
redeemed  of  the  Lord,  and  other  beings  of 
higher  order  than  ourselves ;  or  in  regard  to 
what  is  to  constitute  our  and  their  employ- 
ments in  the  heavenly  state.  We  know  we 
shall  be  active  there,  shall  be  able  to  pass  from 
place  to  place  with  the  greatest  ease,  and  shall 
be  occupied  ever  in  ways  perfectly  suited  to  our 
immortal  natures,  and  adapted  to  carry  us  for- 
ward forever  in  knowledge, -holiness,  and  hap- 


266 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


piness.  At  present,  however,  much  obscurity 
rests  on  these  points.  We  view  them  as  ob- 
jects of  Mth,  revealed  for  our  comfort  and 
hope  in  this  state  of  our  earthly  pilgrimage ; 
but  the  full  vision  and  position  of  them  are 
reserved  for  that  world  where  there  is  no  more 
night.  There  all  these  things  will  be  known ; 
known  in  our  own  happy  experience  and  to  our 
everlasting  joy  and  blessedness  in  the  presence 
of  God  and  the  Lamb.  All  darkness,  all  ob- 
scurity, all  perplexity  trial  and  sorrow  will 
have  fled  away  forever;  and  we  shall  have 
before  us  the  bright  and  glorious  prospect  of 
eternal  progi-ess  in  all  that  shall  assimilate  us 
to  God  and  fit  us  for  the  society  and  employ- 
ments of  angels  and  of  glorified  beings  before 
his  throne. 

The  subject  thus  presented  suggests  many 
deeply  interesting  reflections,  but  I  have  time 
only  to  touch  upon  a  few  in  the  briefest  manner, 
leaving  you  to  follow  them  out  at  your  leisure 
and  to  apply  them  to  the  practical  concerns  of 
life.  And,— 


DISCOURSE. 


26Y 


1.  There  is  good  reason  for  the  saying  of 
the  patriarch  of  old, — I  would  not  live  always. 
Not  that  this  world  has  no  sources  of  consola- 
tion and  enjoyment.  It  has  many  ;  and  if  we 
were  always  in  a  state  of  mind  to  use  them 
right,  no  day  of  our  life  would  pass,  but  we 
should  have  fresh  occasion  for  thanksgiving 
and  praise  for  the  goodness  and  mercy  shown 
us  by  our  Father  in  heaven.  But  this  world 
was  never  designed  to  be  our  home.  It  is  not 
the  place  of  our  rest ;  we  are  soon  to  leave  it ; 
and  while  we  remain  in  it,  the  trials  and 
changes  that  we  meet  with,  or  witness  around 
us,  are  fitted  to  remind  us  that  this  is  our 
night  state,  that  we  have  here  no  continuing 
city,  but  should  seek  one  above  where  reigns 
bright,  eternal  day.  Better  things  than  earth 
contains  are  provided  for  us  in  heaven,  and 
with  these  in  prospect,  we  may  well  take  up  the 
language  and  say,  as  we  pass  along,  I  would 
not  live  always.  Who  would  wish  to  grope  in 
perpetual  night,  when  by  passing  through  a 
door  he  might  enjoy  full,  bright  day  ?  or  who 


268 


ERSKINE    J.  HAWES. 


would  wish  always  to  conflict  with  the  .imper- 
fections, the  sins,  the  trials  and  sorrows  of  this 
life,  when  he  is  invited  to  enter  herein  as  his 
eternal  home,  and  there  be  blessed  with  perfect 
freedom  from  all  the  ills  of  this  probationary 
state,  and  enjoy  complete,  everlasting  happiness 
in  the  presence  of  God  his  Saviour.  This  world, 
too,  even  in  its  best  form  and  highest  enjoy- 
ments will  grow  old,  and  after  awhile  lose  all 
its  attractions.  In  Madame  de  Stael's  memoirs 
of  her  father  we  have  this  striking  remark :  "  I 
have  a  proof,  says  Mr.  Nester,  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  in  this,  that  it  is  at  least, 
after  awhile,  desirable,  and  essential  to  our 
happiness.  By  the  time  we  have  reached 
three  score  years  and  ten,  we  have  looked 
around  us  and  become  familiar  with  the  whole 
scene ;  and  though  not  satisfied^  we  are  sated. 
Then  we  feel  our  need  of  a  new  residence,  a 
new  sphere  of  activity,  and  new  sources  of  em- 
ployment and  enjoyment."  This  is  a  striking 
remark,  and  duly  impressed  on  the  mind,  we 


DISCOURSE. 


269 


can  hardly  refrain  from  exclaiming  in  the  beau- 
tiful language  of  the  hymn  : 

"  Who,  who  would  live  alway,  away  from  his  God, — . 
Away  from  yon  heaven,  that  blissM  abode  ? 
Where  the  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  o'er  the  briglit  plains, 
And  the  noon-tide  of  glory  eternally  reigns  ? 
Where  the  saints  of  all  ages  in  harmony  meet  ; 
Their  Saviour  and  brethren  transported  to  greet  ; 
Whil;3  ihe  anthems  of  rapture  unceasingly  roll , 
And  the  smile  of  the  Lord  is  the  feast  of  the  soul." 

2.  Christians  have  good  reason,  when  they 
come  to  die,  to  meet  the  change  with  cheerful- 
ness and  hope.  They  exchange  night  for  day, 
sin  for  holiness,  sorrow  for  joy,  earth  for 
heaven.  They  leave  a  world  of  darkness  and 
sin  for  a  world  of  unclouded  light  and  perfect 
holiness.  They  leave  a  world  of  ignorance, 
error,  sorrow  and  death,  for  a  world  of  perfect, 
unerring  knowledge,  and  of  everlasting  bless- 
edness. That  world  is  entered  by  the  change 
of  death, — a  change  not  indeed  without  its 
pains  and  terrors,  but  transient  and  quickly 
over,  and  when  passed,  the  Christian  enters  at 
once  into  a  state,  "  where  all  things  are  as  sub- 


210 


ERSKINE   J.  HAWES. 


stantial  as  here  they  are  vain;  where  all  things 
are  as  momentous  as  here  they  are  frivolous ; 
where  all  things  are  as  great  as  here  they 
are  little;  where  all  things  are  as  enduring 
as  here  they  are  ti-ansitory ;  where  all  things 
are  as  fixed  as  here  they  aj-e  mutable;  where, 
in  a  word,  God  shines  as  the  eternal  sun,  and 
pours  the  light  of  his  glory  and  blessedness 
upon  all  the  inhabitants  of  that  holy  and  happy 
world.  Well  might  the  Apostle,  in  the  faith 
and  hope  of  such  a  world,  say,  I  am  in  a  strait 
bewixt  two ;  I  desire  to  go  and  be  present  with 
Chi'ist,  yet  willing  to  remain,  if  it  be  God's 
pleasure.  But  welcome  the  day  of  departure, 
the  hour  of  sweet  release  from  this  my  night 
state  and  of  my  introduction  to  a  state  of  clear 
sunshine  and  everlasting  day.  So  every  true 
Christian  has  good  ground  to  feel  and  to  say, 
when  called  to  meet  the  change  of  death. 

3.  Our  subject  furnishes  strong  ground  for 
submission  and  consolation  in  the  loss  of  fiiends 
who  have  died  in  the  Lord.  They  have  gone 
from  us,  we  miss  them  in  the  family  circle  and 


DISCOURSE.  271 

in  the  intercourse  of  life,  and  a  thousand  things 
occur  to  bring  them  fresh  to  our  memory,  and 
to  remind  us  that  we  shall  no  more  see  or  con- 
verse with  them  in  this  world.  And  then  the 
heart  will  bleed,  and  the  tears  flow  afresh.  It 
is  not  wrong  to  feel  our  loss  and  mourn  when 
loved  ones  are  taken  from  us  and  we  are  to  see 
them  no  more  as  we  pursue  the  lonely  journey 
of  life.  But  there  are  sources  of  consolation 
here  which  we  may  not  overlook.  Our  dear 
departed  friends  who  have  died  in  the  Lord, — 
where  are  they  ?  In  that  world  where  there 
is  no  more  darkness ;  where  all  is  light ;  where 
shines  one  unclouded,  everlasting  day.  There 
they  are  freed  from  all  the  imperfections,  weak- 
nesses, temptations,  sins  and  sorrows  of  this 
life,  and  transformed  perfectly  into  the  image 
of  Christ,  they  behold  his  glory,  dwell  in  his 
presence,  and  are  entered  into  the  mansions  pre- 
pared for  them  in  their  Father's  house  above. 
They  are  now  satisfied;  all  that  was  dark, 
trying  to  them,  in  this  world,  is  cleared  up ; 
the  book  of  Providence  is  now  unsealed  to 


272 


ERSKINE    J.    HA  WES. 


their  view,  and  every  page  of  it,  however  ob- 
scure and  mysterious  here,  is  now  read  in  the 
light  of  he'aven,  and  every  word  and  letter  of 
it  is  seen  to  have  been  inscribed  by  unerring, 
everlasting  wisdom  and  goodness.  And  them- 
selves who  once  walked  in  darkness  here  and 
saw  no  light,  are  constrained  to  exclaim, — He 
hath  done  all  things  well.  Marvellous  are  thy 
woi'ks.  Lord  God  Almighty:  just  and  true  are 
all  thy  ways,  O  thou  King  of  saints. 

So  it  is  with  all  our  friends  who  have  died 
in  the  Lord  and  entered  into  heaven.  And 
should  not  this  satisfy  us,  and  more  than  satisfy 
us  ?  Should  it  not  even  call  forth  our  thanks- 
giving and  praise?  They  have  left  us  for  a 
little  while ;  have  reached  the  goal  and  gained 
the  crown  for  which  they  strove  in  life,  and 
now  victors  in  the  presence  of  their  Saviour 
and  King,  they  wait  to  welcome  us  to  their 
society  and  to  their  rewards  in  heaven  forever. 
Wherefore,  my  brethren,  comfort  one  another 
with  these  precious  truths.  Some  of  us  feel 
the  need  of  this  comfort  to  day ;  others  may 


DISCOURSE.        '  2V3 

soon  feel  the  need  of  it,  for  the  cup  of  sorrow 
is  passing  round  and  to  whose  lips  it  will  next 
be  pressed,  we  know  not ;  happy  will  it  be  for 
us  if  Avhen  called  to  part  with  friends,  we  can 
think  of  them  as  passed  into  the  world  where 
there  is  no  more  night,  and  where  we  may 
hope  to  meet  them  when  the  time  of  our  de- 
parture shall  come. 

4.  Prospects  ineffably  glorious  are  before  us, 
if  we  are  indeed  the  disciples  of  Christ  and 
heirs  of  his  kingdom.  The  present  night  state 
in  which  we  live  will  soon  pass  away,  and  with 
it  all  obscui'ity,  perplexity  and  trial  forever, 
and  instead  will  dawn  upon  us,  a  day  which  has 
no  night,  a  day  of  eternal  sunshine,  of  revela- 
tion, and  glory  and  blessedness  in  the  kingdom 
of  our  Fathei"  and  Saviour.  This  prospect  is 
before  us,  it  hastens  on  apace,  and  soon,  if  found 
faithful,  we  shall  realize  it  in  all  its  glory  and 
blessedness.  As  this  world-  passes  away,  an- 
other opens  to  our  view.  This  prospect  en- 
livens the  solitudes  which  bereavement  and 
decays  of  nature  produce.  This  prospect  be- 
13 


274 


ERSKINE  J.  HAWES. 


comes  a  substitute  for  the  scenes  and  charms 
which  have  faded  and  fled.  This  prospect  en- 
tertains and  engages,  when  the  days  are  come 
in  which  we  say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them. 
The  outward  man  perisheth,  but  the  inward 
man  is  renewed  day  l)y  day.  Our  heart  and 
flesh  fail,  but  God  is  the  strength  of  our  heai-t 
and  our  portion  forever.  We  depart,  but  we 
leave  what  is  not  our  rest,  what  is  dark,  unsatis- 
fying and  passeth  away, — while  we  enter  a 
creation  where  everything  that  is  new,  and 
grand  and  pui-e,  and  attractive  and  beautifying, 
says, — Arise  and  come  away.  And  the  hour 
that  obscures  and  quenches  forever  all  other 
glories,  raises  us,  if  Christians,  to  immortal  life 
and  blessedness  in  heaven.  But,  oh,  if  not 
Christians,  not  disciples  and  followers  of  the 
Saviour  in  a  life  of  faith  and  love  and  de- 
votion to  his  service,  the  reverse  of  all  this 
will  come  upon  us, — and  instead  of  the  sen- 
tence,— Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father;  inherit 
the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world,  we  must  hear  the  fearful 


DISCOURSE.  275 

doom— Depart  ye  accursed  into  everlasting 
fire  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels.  An 
awful  alternative;  it  is  set  before  each  one  of 
us:  in  view  of  it  we  are  called  each  one  to 
make  our  choice  for  eternity. 


1 


